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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



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in 2011 with funding from 
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YOU AND I 




THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

NEW YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO 
DALLAS • ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN & CO., Limited 

LONDON • BOMBAY • CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Lro. 

TORONTO 






YOU AND I 



BY 

HARRIET MONROE 

ii 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
1914 



Copyright, 1905, by The Atlantic Montlily Company, The Metropolitan 
Magazine ; Copyright, 1906, by The Century Co., The Metropolitan 
Magazine; Copyright, 1908, by The Century Co.; Copyright, 1909, by 
The Century Co., The Phillips' Publishing Co., The Atlantic Monthly 
Company; Copyright, 1910, by The Century Co., The Atlantic Monthly 
Company; Copyright, 1911, by Harriet Monroe, Charles Scribner's Sons; 
Copyright, 1912, by Harriet Monroe, Charles Scribner's Sons; Copyright, 
1913, by Harriet Monroe; Copyright, 1914, by Harriet Monroe, Mitchell 
Kennerley, John Adams Thayer Corporation. 



Copyright, 1914, by THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 



Set up and electrotyped. Published, October, 1914 



All righUs- relerved 



OCT 15 1914 

©CI.A387023 



To 
> MARGARET ROOT FECHHEIMER 

Dear Margaret: A hook of poems should 
have almost as many dedications as titles, for 
the poet must always sing for some friend, 
whether the friend knows it or not. Therefore 
certain of these poems are frankly inscribed to 
the people whose high hearts inspired or re- 
ceived them; and certain others, even though 
uninscrihed, will he claimed, no douht, hy those 
to whom they helong. If, in gathering them 
all together, I offer the hook to you, it is in 
the hope of invoking for it your spirit of youth 
and joy. 

To win that would he what mortals mean 
hy immortality. May you live forever! 

H. M. 



CONTENTS 



I. Town and Travel. 



PAGE 



The Hotel 3 

Night in State Street 7 

The Turbine 15 

The Ocean Liner 21 

Our Canal 25 

For Peace 32 

To Idleness 35 

Two Capitals — 1910 38 

A Letter from Peking .... 42 



n. You AND L 

Myself ..... 
The Inner Silence 
The Wonder of It . 
A Garden in the Desert . 
The Message of the Wind 
Love Songs — I, II, III 
In Tuolumne Meadows . 
A Farewell .... 
A Letter to One Far Away 
vii 



53 

55 
57 
58 
60 
61 

64 
66 
67 



VlJl 



CONTENTS 



IIL Other People. 

The Woman . 

The Shadow Child 

The Model . 

His Stenographer 

Deserted . 

After Sunset . 

A Little Old Maid 

The Fortunate One 

Nancy Hanks 

Maternity 

New-born 

Melodies . 

The Childless Woman 

A Story . 

A Portrait 

The Mockery 

The Thief on the Cross 

IV. Pictures Here and There. 

Why Not? . . . . . 

At Twilight 

A Play Festival in Ogden Park 
Battle-Flags of Illinois 
In the Louvre . . o „ 
The Tower 



PAGE 

73 
85 
88 
92 

94 

96 

97 
99 
100 
103 
105 
106 
107 
no 
112 
113 
114 



119 
120 
122 
124 
126 
128 



CONTENTS ix 

V. Old Stories. 

PAGE 

The Princess and the Page . . .133 
The Legend of Pass Christian . . .138 

VI. Sonnets and Quatrains. 

A Power Plant 145 

The Telephone 146 

The Temple of Vishnu . . . .147 

Winter . 148 

Pain . .149 

/Ere Perennius 15 1 

The Peacemaker 152 

Quatrains — I, II, III . . ... 153 

VII. Elegies. 

For a Child 157 

Lullaby . 165 

Titanic Requiem 167 

The Dead Aviators 168 

Nogi 170 

Saint-Gaudens 171 

VIII. Other Worlds. 

Beyond the Suns 177 

On the Edge of Sleep . « . .181 
Through the Ways 183 



CONTENTS 
IX. Out of Doors. 

PAGE 

Mother Earth 189 

Now 194 

The Hetch-Hetchy 195 

The River Kern 198 

The Sage 201 

Sierran Song 203 

At the Summit 205 

The Giant Cactus of Arizona . . . 206 

At the Grand Canon 208 

Lake Louise . . . . . . . 209 

March 210 

At the Ship's Rail 211 

Wings 212 

L* The Humming-bird 213 

In the Air 214 

The Night-blooming Cereus . . .216 

X. Dance of the Seasons .... 221 



NOTE OF ACKNOWLEDGMENT 

For the privilege of reprinting many poems 
In this volume the author thanks the editors 
of The Fortnightly Review (London) , The At- 
lantic Monthly and The Twentieth Century 
Magazine (Boston), Poetry (Chicago), and 
The Century, The Forum, Scribner^s Magazine, 
The American Magazine, The Metropolitan 
Magazine, The Smart Set and Saint Nicholas 
(New York). 



I. TOWN AND TRAVEL 



.n 



THE HOTEL 

The long resounding marble corridors, the 
shining parlors with shining women in 
them. 

The French room, with its gilt and garlands 
under plump little tumbling painted loves. 

The Turkish room, with its jumble of many 
carpets and its stiffly squared un-Turkish 
chairs. 

The English room, all heavy crimson and gold, 
with spreading palms lifted high in round 
green tubs. 

The electric lights in twos and threes and hun- 
dreds, made into festoons and spirals and 
arabesques, a maze and magic of bright 
persistent radiance. 

The people sitting in corners by twos and 
threes, and cooing together under the 
glare. 

3 



.ft 



4 YOU AND I 

The long rows of silent people In chairs, watch- 
ing with eyes that see not while the patient 
band tangles the air with music. 

The bell-boys marching in with cards, and 
shouting names over and over into ears 
that do not heed. 

The stout and gorgeous dowagers In lacy white 
and lilac, bedizened with many jewels, with 
smart little scarlet or azure hats on their 
gray-streaked hair. 

The business men in trim and spotless suits, 
who walk In and out vv^Ith eager steps, or 
sit at the desks and tables, or watch the 
shining women. 

The telephone girls forever listening to far 
voices, with the silver band over their hair 
and the little black caps obliterating their 
ears. 

The telegraph tickers sounding their perpetual 
chit — chit-chit from the uttermost ends of 
the earth. 

The waiters. In black swallow-tails and white 
aprons, passing here and there with trays 
of bottles and glasses. 



YOU AND I 5 

The quiet and sumptuous bar-room, with pur- 
plish men softly drinking in little alcoves, 
while the bar-keeper, mixing bright liquors, 
is rapidly plying his bottles. 

The great bedecked and gilded cafe, with its 
glitter of a thousand mirrors, with its little 
white tables bearing gluttonous dishes 
whereto bright forks, held by pampered 
hands, flicker daintily back and forth. 

The white-tiled, immaculate kitchen, with many 
little round blue fires, where white-clad 
cooks are making spiced and flavored 
dishes. 

The cool cellars filled with meats and fruits, or 
layered with sealed and bottled wines mel- 
lowing softly in the darkness. 

The Invisible stories of furnaces and machines, 
burrowing deep down into the earth, where 
grimy workmen are heavily laboring. 

The many-windowed stories of little homes and 
shelters and sleeping-places, reaching up 
into the night like some miraculous, high- 
piled honeycomb of wax-white cells. 

The clothes inside of the cells — the stuffs, the 



.f-H 



6 YOU AND I 

silks, the laces; the elaborate delicate dis- 
guises that wait in trunks and drawers and 
closets, or bedrape and conceal human 
flesh. 

The people inside of the clothes, the bodies 
white and young, bodies fat and bulging, 
bodies wrinkled and wan, all alike veiled 
by fine fabrics, sheltered by walls and 
roofs, shut in from the sun and stars. 

The souls inside of the bodies — the naked souls ; 
souls weazened and weak, or proud and 
brave; all imprisoned in flesh, wrapped in 
woven stuffs, enclosed in thick and painted 
masonry, shut away with many shadows 
from the shining truth. 

God inside of the souls, God veiled and wrapped 
and imprisoned and shadowed in fold on 
fold of flesh and fabrics and mockeries ; but 
ever alive, struggling and rising again, 
seeking the light, freeing the world. 



NIGHT IN STATE STREET 

Art thou he? — 
The seer and sage, the hero and lover — yea, 
The man of men, then away from the haughty 

day 
Come with me! 

Ho — hoi to the night — 

The spangled night that would the noon out- 
stare. 

Her skirts are fringed with light, 

She is girdled and crowned with gems of fire 
that flare. 

The city Is dizzy with the thrill of her — 

Her shining eyes and shadowy floating hair; 

And curious winds her nebulous garments blur, 

Blowing her moon-white limbs and bosom bare. 

She beckons me — 
Down the deep street she goes to keep her tryst. 

7 



8 YOU AND I 

Come — come — oh follow! oh see 

The many-windowed walls uprear so high 

They dim and quiver and float away in mist 

Tangling the earth and sky. 

And the pale stars go by 

Like spirits masterful and still and strong. 

Dragging the heavy nets of life along. 

Down in the deep 
Lightly the nets enmesh us with the swarm 
Of huddled human things that, soft and warm, 
Beat out so close the pulses of their lives. 
We crowd and creep, 

We jostle and push out of our halls and hives, 
We chatter and laugh and weep. 
Ah, do you hear 

The choral of voices, each the secret hiding? 
Do you see the warren of souls, each one abid- 
ing 
In separate solitude, remote, austere? 

Here in the glare of the street we cling to- 
gether 
Against the warning darkness, the still height 
Of the awful night. 



I 



YOU AND I 9 

We blow like a feather 

From hope to hope along the winds of fate 

Importunate. 

The lettered lights that twinkle in and out 

Lure us and laugh at us, beckon and flout, 

Flashing their slangy symbols in our eyes. 

Blurting their gaudy lies. 

The bold shop-windows flaunt their empty 

wares — 
Jewelled or tinselled shows of things, 
The fripperies and furnishings 
Wherein stark life will stifle her shiverings 
Ere forth in the dawn she fares. 

Ah, tyranny perilous ! 
Vain shows that master us! 
See the gay girls fluttering wistfully. 
Where waxen dummies grin in gowns of lace. 
Watch yonder woman in black, whose dimmed 

eyes see 
Soft baby things folded with tender grace. 
And look at the children crowding and shout- 
ing there 
Where dancing dolls jiggle and jerk and stare. 



10 YOU AND I 

They hover and cling 

Possessed by signs and shadows of the thing. 

They moor their bark 

Close to the shore and fathom not the dark — 

The dark that glooms afar 

Beyond the invisible star, 

Beyond faith's boundaries, 

The plausible was and is. 

Come, ye adventurous, 
Open your hearts to us ! 
You tiny newsboy, calling extras there, 
Pitiful burden-bearer, pale with blight, 
What of the night? — 

The sullen night that brings you, little one, 
So heavy a load of care. 

While happier children sleep from sun to sun? 
And you, wan youth, haggard and spent, 
By mad thirst driven and rent — 
Thirst of the body, thirst of the soul — 
To what dark goal 

Does reeling night lead you, her listless prey. 
To gorge you and slay. 
And hide forever from the searching day? 



YOU AND I II 

And you, furtive and flaunting girl, 

Whose heavy-lidded eyes unfurl 

Red signal fires, the while, demure. 

Your brooding lips deny their lure — 

Ah, does the lewd night lash you to her cave. 

And will you never her ribald rage out-brave. 

And rise no more forlorn 

To greet the morn? 

The street grows Insolent. 
With cries of dark delight 
And gestures Impudent 
It rends the robe of night. 
Up to the silent sky 
It shouts the human cry. 

The crowds push in and out 
By all the open ways, 
Eager to stare and shout 
At vaudeville waifs of plays. 
They drop their coins and laugh 
At the wheezy phonograph, 
They hush for the noisy drone 
Of the croaking megaphone. 
At every flippant show 



12 YOU AND I 

That litters life with jest 
They pause that they may not go 
On life's eternal quest. 
They stifle truth with speech, 
They mimic love with lust, 
For the glitter of gilt they reach 
And cover the gold with dust. 
They stoop to the din and glare 
Who have the lofty night for comrade rare. 
They grope along the ground 
Whose stature like the night with stars is 
crowned. 

Oh piteous ! 

Oh struggle vain! 

Of puppets emulous. 

We strive and strain 

To forge for our limbs a chain. 

Come, thou deep-hearted Night, so dark and 
bright ! 

Come, holy Night, come, lawless, dissolute 
Night ! 

Come, human Night, hushing thy dreams di- 
vine! 



YOU AND I 13 

Give me thy dreams, O Night — they shall be 

mine ! — • 
Mine and this beggar's, though we lie to thee! 
Mine and this harlot's, though from thee we 

flee! 
Mine and this worldling's, though with might 

and right 
We hide them from our sight. 
Thy shadowed eyes the truth behold, and we — 
We too shall know the truth, and so be free ! 
Even now — yea, now 

Through lies and vanities we pry and peer. 
Even now we bow 
At little shrines where pale fires flicker and 

fleer. 
Hark! in the echoing street 
The drums that bang and beat. 
Where the curb-stone preachers tell 
The way to heaven and hell. 
Look! in yon window there 
A man through a glass astare 
At atoms and embryos. 
The source whence all life flows. 
So you and I, O friend, 



14 YOU AND I 

Search the beghmlng and end. 

We may not choose but follow — 

Yes, you and I and these — 

The fume of the noisome hollow, 

The gleam of the Pleiades. 

Wherever one goes In quest 

With his quest we are cursed or blest. 

And the street, with its blazing mockery of 

noon, 
Leads on to the quiet stars, to the lofty moon. 

The little lights go out now row on row, 
The dim crowds glide away. The shadowed 

street 
Pillars the vaulted sky. And Night, proud 

Night, 
Rapt in her dreams, with stately tread and slow 
Patrols the drowsy world. O friend complete. 
How may we read her deep delight aright? 

Art thou he — 
The seer and sage, the hero and lover — yea, 
The man of men, then even to the gates of day 
Lead thou me! 



THE TURBINE 

To JV. S. M. 

Look at her — there she sits upon her throne 
As ladyhke and quiet as a nun I 
But if you cross her — whew! her thunderbolts 
Will shake the earth ! She's proud as any 

queen, 
The beauty — knows her royal business too, 
To light the world, and does it night by night 
When her gay lord, the sun, gives up his job. 
I am her slave; I wake and watch and run 
From dark till dawn beside her. All the while 
She hums there softly, purring with delight 
Because men bring the riches of the earth 
To feed her hungry fires. I do her will 
And dare not disobey, for her right hand 
Is power, her left is terror, and her anger 
Is havoc. Look — if I but lay a wire 

15 



i6 YOU AND I 

Across the terminals of yonder switch 
She'll burst her windings, rip her casings off, 
And shriek till envious Hell shoots up its flames, 
Shattering her very throne. And all her people, 
The laboring, trampling, dreaming crowds out 

there — • 
Fools and the wise who look to her for light — 
Will walk in darkness through the liquid night, 
Submerged. 

Sometimes I wonder why she stoops 
To be my friend — oh yes, who talks to me 
And sings away my loneHness; my friend, 
Though I am trivial and she sublime. 
Hard-hearted? — No, tender and pitiful, 
As all the great are. Every arrogant grief 
She comforts quietly, and all my joys 
Dance to her measures through the tolerant 

night. 
She talks to me, tells me her troubles too, 
Just as I tell her mine. Perhaps she feels 
An ache deep down — that agonizing stab 
Of grit grating her bearings; then her voice 
Changes its tune, it wails and calls to me 



YOU AND I 17 

To soothe her anguish, and I run, her slave, 
Probe like a surgeon and relieve the pain. 

We have our jokes too, little mockeries 
That no one else In all the swarming world 
Would see the point of. She will laugh at me 
To show her power : maybe her carbon packings 
Leak steam, and I run madly back and forth 
To keep the Infernal fiends from breaking 

loose: 
Suddenly she will throttle them herself 
And chuckle softly, far above me there, 
At my alarms. 

But there are moments — hush! — 
When my turn comes; her slave can be her 

master. 
Conquering her he serves. For she's a woman, 
Gets bored there on her throne, tired of her- 
self. 
Tingles with power that turns to wantonness. 
Suddenly something's wrong — she laughs at me. 
Bedevils the frail wires with some mad caress 
That thrills blind space, calls down ten thousand 
lightnings 



i8 YOU AND I 

To ruin her pomp and set her spirit free. 
Then with this puny hand, swift as her threat, 
Must I beat back the chaos, hold in leash 
Destructive furies, rescue her^ — even her — 
From the fierce rashness of her truant mood. 
And make me lord of far and near a moment, 
Startling the mystery. Last night I did it — 
Alone here with my hand upon her heart 
I faced the mounting fiends and whipped them 

down; 
And never a wink from the long file of lamps 
Betrayed her to the world. 

So there she sits. 
Mounted on all the ages, at the peak 
Of time. The first man dreamed of light, and 

dug 
The sodden Ignorance away, and cursed 
The darkness; young primeval races dragged 
Foundation stones, and piled into the void 
Rage and desire; the Greek mounted and sang 
Promethean songs and lit a signal fire; 
The Roman bent his iron will to forge 
Deep furnaces ; slow epochs riveted 



YOU AND I 19 

With hope the secret chambers : till at last 
We, you and I, this living age of ours, 
A new-winged Mercury, out of the skies 
Filch the wild spirit of light, and chain him 

there 
To do her will forever. 

Look, my friend, 
Behold a sign ! What is this crystal sphere — 
This Httle bulb of glass I lightly lift. 
This iridescent bubble a child might blow 
Out of its brazen pipe to hold the sun — 
What strange toy is it? In my hand it lies 
Cold and inert, its puny artery — 
That curling cobweb film — ashen and dead. 
But see — a twist or two — let it but touch 
The hem, far trailing, of my lady's robe. 
And lo, the burning life-blood of the stars 
Leaps to its heart, that glows against the dark, 
Kindling the world. 

Even so I touch her garment. 
Her servant through the quiet night; and thus 
I lay my hand upon the Pleiades 



_.,i 



20 . YOU AND I 

And feel their throb of fire. Grandly she gives 
To me unworthy; woman inscrutable, 
Scatters her splendors through my darkness, 

leads me 
Far out into the workshop of the worlds. 
There I can feel those infinite energies 
Our little earth just gnaws at through the ether. 
And see the light our sunshine hides. Out there 
Close to the heart of life I am at peace. 



THE OCEAN LINER 

They went down to the sea in ships, 
In ships they went down to the sea. 
In boats hewn of oak-tree strips, 
In galleys with skin-sewn sails. 
In triremes, caravels, brigs — 
Frail, flimsily rolling rigs — 
They went down where the huge wave rips, 
Where the black storm lashes and hales. 
They went down to the sea in ships, 
To the sounding, sorrowing sea. 

They go down to the sea — O me I — 
What ships that outbrave the sea, 
What ships that outrun the gale. 
With a feather of steam for a sail 
And a whirling shaft for an oar. 
Are the ships that my brothers build 
To carry me over the sea, 

21 



22 YOU AND I 

That my hand with treasures filled 
May knock at the morrow's door! 

Steel hulls Impenetrable 
To the waves that tease and pull, 
Bright engines that answer the beat 
' Of their foam-slippered dancing feet, 
Hot fires that shudder and drive. 
Close-tended, untiring, sure — 
Like queen-bees deep In the hive 
Who labor and serve and endure : 
All these are down below 
Far under the slippery water, 
While the babe sleeps soft In his bed, 
And the banquet table Is spread. 
And my neighbor's laughing daughter 
Trims her hair with a rose-red bow. 

They went down to the sea In ships. 
In ships they went down to the sea. 
And the sea had a million lips 
And she laughed In her throat for glee. 
And the floor of the sea was strewn 
With tempest trophies dread, 



YOU AND I 23 

And the deep-sea currents croon 
As they wash through the bones of the dead. 
But the ships that my brothers build — 
Ah, they mock at the storm's mad rage; 
And their burning hearts are thrilled 
When he throws them his battle gauge. 
On the sea-foam they lean for a pillow, 
They drive without paddle or sail 
Straight over the mountainous billow. 
Straight on through the blustering gale ! 
Oh they shake out gay flags as they run, 
Flags that flutter and gleam in the sun ! 
From the tip of their turrets above 
They send news of the storm to the shore; 
And they hear from afar through the roar, 
Down the cloud-built aisles of the sky, 
Some land-bound lady's cry 
To her ocean-wandering love. 

They go down to the sea in ships, 
In ships they go down to the sea. 
And my brothers, the masterful, free. 
Fear no more the white foam of her lips. 
The sweet wild kiss of the sea ! 



24 YOU AND I 

They have won her, she harks to their wooing, 

The love of ten thousand years, 

The suing, the wild undoing. 

The faith unto death, the tears. 

Oh, their glory her song shall be; 

Soft, soft is the kiss of her lips ! 

They go down to the sea in ships, 

In ships they go down to the sea. 






OUR CANAL 

To Colonel Goethals and the Other Laborers 
in the Canal Zone 

In lazy laughing Panama — 
O flutter of ribbon 'twixt the seas! — 
The low-roofed houses lie afloat, 
White foain-drift of the Caribbees, 
Under lithe palms that fan the sky 
Down in each drowsy plaza there. 
Brown-footed girls go glancing by 
With red hibiscus in their hair. 
Low mountains, trailing veils of cloud. 
In the two oceans dip their feet. 
And hear the proud tides roaring loud 
Where Andes with Sierras meet, 
O Panama! O ribbon-twist 
That ties the continents together. 
Now East and West shall slip your tether 
And keep their ancient tryst, 

25 



26 YOU AND I 

What are you doing here, 
Young men, with your engines vast? 
Sons of the pioneer 
Who conquered wastes austere 
And from ocean to ocean passed; 
Sons of the men who made 
Reaper and telegraph, 
Steamer and aeroplane — 
All the iron-handed things. 
Swift feet and tongues and wings. 
That would make the old gods laugh 
For the bitter games they played 
With the secrets they kept in vain: 
What are you doing here. 
Young men, with your dredges and drills 
That level the ancient hills 
Into a path for ships? 
Open your eyes and lips — 
What do you see and hear? 

"Oh, we build you the world's last wonder, 
The thing not made with hands. 
Our steel beasts gnaw asunder 
The locked and laboring lands. 



YOU AND I 27 

We choke the torrent's rage, 

And bid him his wrath assuage 

By drowning the jungle deep. 

In steel-locked chambers gray 

We hold his floods at bay, 

On wide blue lakes asleep. 

Now shall the brave ships ride 

Over the crouching hill 

From eager tide to tide, 

That so we may fulfil 

The iron century's will; 

That so our country, maker of tools sublime, 

The nations may surprise 

With this last gift of the grand old workman, 

Time; 
His prodigy powerful, delicate, sentient, wise, 
Perfect in strange completeness, strong to obey. 
Strong to compel the world along its way 
And praise man's triumph in its mighty rhyme." 

But what are you doing here, 
Young men, with your flags? — 
With your glamour of joy severe 
In the labor that never lags? 



28 YOU AND I 

With your villages up the hill, 
The screened little houses gay, 
Where the good of all is the will 
Of each in a grand new way? 
Sons of the men who founded 
New states in the wilds, to be 
Garden and range unbounded 
For young Democracy; 
Sons of the heroes dear 
Who fought for liberty. 
What are you doing here? 

''Look, it's the same old fight 
Out of the dark to the light; 
Never the end shall be 
Till the last slave is free! 
Here while we dig the Ditch 
We would build you a perfect state, 
Where service makes men great 
And the great scorn to be rich; 
Where each man has his place 
And a measure more than his meed — 
A banner of joy to grace 
The strength of the daily deed; 



YOU AND I 29 

Where Disease, trapped in his lair 

With Squalor and Want and Care, 

Is slain with the poison fume 

He loosed for the proud world^s doom; 

Where the Work is a marching song 

Sung by us all together, 

Bearing the race along 

Through good and evil weather. 

Oh tell them, shout it through the halls of 

time ! — 
When the Big Chief unrolls his glorious plan, 
Draws hearts and hands together In perfect 

rhyme. 
Nothing shall be impossible to Man!" 

But what are you doing here, 
Young men, with your gates? 
With your bells and beacons clear 
Where the hope of the whole world waits? 
With your call across the seas 
To the ships that circle afar. 
To the nations that burn and freeze 
Each under her separate star? 
Sons of the dreamers brave 



30 YOU AND I 

Who followed the Truth austere, 
Of poets and prophets grave — 
What are you doing here? 

"Hush ! we wait at the gate 
Till the dream shall be the law. 
He gave us our beacons and bells 
Who first the vision saw, 
And the fleets of the world in state 
Shall follow his caravels. 
Ghost-led, our ships shall sail 
West to the ancient East. 
Once more the quest of the Grail, 
And the greatest shall be the least. 
We shall circle the earth around 
With peace like a garland fine; 
The warring world shall be bound 
With a girdle of love divine. 
What build we from coast to coast? 
It's a path for the Holy Ghost. 
Oh Tomorrow and Yesterday 
At its gate clasp hands, touch lips ; 
They shall send men forth in ships 
To find the perfect way. 



YOU AND I 31 

'*A11 that was writ shall be fulfilled at last. 
Come — till we round the circle, end the story. 
The west-bound sun leads forward to the past 
The thundering cruisers and the caravels. 
Tomorrow you shall hear our song of glory 
Rung In the chime of India's temple bells." 

O lazy laughing Panama! 
O flutter of ribbon 'twixt the seas! 
Pirate and king your colors wore 
And stained with blood your golden keys. 
Now what strange guest, on what mad quest, 
Lifts up your trophy to the breeze! 
O Panama, O ribbon-twist 
That ties the continents together. 
Now East and West shall slip your tether 
And keep their ancient tryst. 



FOR PEACE 

Flowers grow in the grass, 
Baby footfalls pass 
Over the fields once red, 
Over the hero's head — 

For Peace. 

The earth, through her leafy veil, 
Whispers a magic tale; 
And the scholar reads in the clod 
The latest news of God — 

For Peace. 

Brave little wires are spun 
For voices to fly upon; 
Words out of clouds are caught 
From some witch's woof of thought- 

For Peace. 
32 



'HBjy ^i 



YOU AND I 33 

And the cataract's foamy troubles 
Illumine a million bubbles, 
In some city far away 
Turning the night to day — 

For Peace. 



Proud trains, heralds austere. 
Bring far-off nations near, 
Piercing the mountain's crown. 
Treading the barriers down — 

For Peace. 

Swift ships, that pound the sea, 
Set the earth-chained spirit free. 
Show the whole round world unrolled 
Before the young moon grows old — 

For Peace. 

And the white-winged aeroplane 
Laughs, in its mad disdain, 
At limits and barricades 
And cruisers and cavalcades — 

For Peace. 



S4 YOU AND I 

Even the war engines dread — 
The guns with bomb-shells fed, 
The grim gray battle-ships — 
Shout through their iron lips 

For Peace. 

Oh, never a hero's grave 
But for Peace his life he gavel 
And the warrior bears his scar, 
And the poet sings of war 

For Peace. 



~ ■• f\iirtijj]| 



TO IDLENESS 

Sweet Idleness, you linger at the door 
To lead me down through meadows cool with 

shade — 
Down to the brook, over whose pebbly floor 
The fishes, unafraid, 

Swim softly, careless of our airy world. 
I hear you ever singing, calling ever. 
Bidding me sever 

The chain so close about my spirit curled. 
Why do I toil and pore 
When you are at the door? 
Surely Time's slave am I, and you will shun me ; 
Surely the delvers of the dark have won me 
If here I stay when you are fled away. 

O Idleness, where sleep your votaries? 
In what enchanted garden of pure bliss 
Float their dim dreams on lotus-laden wings? 

35 



36 YOU AND I 

What joy of musical imaginings 

Lulls them in banishment? 

Ah, call them back to earth, that weary is! 

Ah, call them back, with sleepy-eyed Content 

Close in their flowery train. 

And bid them soothe a world whose joys are 

spent. 
Who prays for peace In vain ! 
Tell them to twine their wreaths round yonder 

brow. 
Whence lovely hopes flamed skyward once, 

where now 
Greed showers his ashes gray. 
Bedew those eyes until they shine once more; 
For exiled youth unbar the rusted door, 
And save a soul to-day. 

Oh, will you linger with the butterflies. 
And man's high love despise? 
I know one fit for your sweet wooing — 
Ah, save him from the beckoning death! 
Too swiftly Beauty's quest pursuing, 
Soon must he fall, and fail of breath. 
The dull world speeds him on — oh, haste ! 



YOU AND I 37 

With roses bind him, bear him far, 

Sing him sweet songs, weave visions chaste, 

Till he is strong to seek his star! 

Ah, we have sinned and grievous is our 

shame ! 
You we have banished, and reviled your name. 
Till men dig deep in shadows, rubbing o'er 
Their earthy store; 
And maids pink-petalled like the mom. 
For you and love and dalliance born. 
Toil clamorous in the dark, and smile no more. 
Do you hear the noise? Ah, no! for you are 

flown. 
Now you will follow 
The flight of song through fields with daisies 

sown. 
The sport of thrush and swallow 
Rhymes with your joy, and I must brood alone. 



TWO CAPITALS— 1 9 10 



MOSCOW 



White Moscow of the pearly towers, 
And golden domes for praise, 
And chiming hours! 
Red Moscow of the Kremlin walls, 
And bloody battle ways. 
And fire-scarred halls! 

Beautiful Moscow brave and bright, 
Whose banners floated toward the Hght 
When Asia knocked at Europe's door 
And bleeding tzars paid off our score — 
Ah, shining city, far away 
Your gaudy spires salute the day 
Like opal-hearted Iris flowers 
Decking the blue transparent hours. 
Now from your seat the slim rails run 
Through Asia to the rising sun, 

38 



YOU AND I 39 

Along the ancient highway made 

By caravan and cavalcade. 

Still East and West meet at your gate — > 

That Kremlin gate where once in state 

Great Europe's conqueror, seeking room, 

Marched through triumphant to his doom. 

Proud Moscow of barbaric tzars. 

Of gorgeous crownings and dark wars, 

Jewel-encrusted, rich with age. 

Heir of a lordly heritage. 

Look out from Ivan's tower of bells — 

See, the vast East is proud with day! 

Soon to your ancient citadels 

The world will march the Asian way. 

White Moscow of the pearly towers, 
And golden domes for praise 
And chiming hours! 
Red Moscow of the Kremlin walls. 
And bloody battle ways 
And fire-scarred halls! 



40 YOU AND I 

PEKING 

Under her yellow roofs adream 
The Imperial city sleeps in state, 
While warrior nations, flags agleam. 
Come marching through her fortress gate. 
Beneath her towered wall, one by one, 
The slow contemptuous camels tread, 
And through it eager engines run 
Over the dust of ages dead. 
Peking! close bound in triple walls, 
Between the old and new she lies; 
The yellow dragon guards her halls, 
The blare of trumpets fills her skies. 
She stirs out of her age-long sleep 
By the worn temples chill and still. 
Where Sung and Ming and Mongol keep 
Their ghostly watch from hill to hill. 
Over the graves of dynasties 
The winds of dawn blow free and far — 
Heralds of hastening centuries, 
With banners flown for peace or war. 

O brooding East! 
O winds of dawn! 



YOU AND I 41 



From the night-long feast 
The kings are gone. 
What guests will come 
Down the world's highway 
At the roil of the drum 
For the day? 



A LETTER FROM PEKING 

October ijth, igio. 

My friend, dear friend, why should I hear 

your voice 
Over the Babel of voices, suddenly 
Calling as from the new world to the old? 
Hush! — are you weary? would you follow me? 
Would you make dark the house, and shut the 

door. 
Summon steam-pacing trains, wave-racing ships, 
To bear you past the high assembled nations — - 
Past the loud cries, the plucking hands of the 

age- 
Even to the East that drowses on her throne? 

Come then — it's good to be alive today; 
For yesterday is dead, and dim tomorrow 
Flits like a ghost before us, threatening 

42 



YOU AND I 43 

Our peering eyes with mistily flapping wings. 
Grandly the streets loom upward; huge sky- 
scrapers 
Catch at the glory of the sunrise, wear 
The morning like a mantle, bare their heads 
In praise and prayer. And with us on the pave- 
ment, 
Above us In the air there, and below. 
Under our feet, by train and tram and subway, 
The people bear the burden of the age — 
Each to his work, each to his love, his dream, 
The little secret vision of his soul. 
Veiled, muffled, trampled, baffled, but agleam: 
Our people, eager to work, eager to laugh, 
Eager to love — If but to love were easy, 
Pausing not for the slow and difficult thing 
As they push past their neighbors to the goal. 

Now to the ship — down the long crowded 

wharves. 
The tangle of souls and voices threading thinly 
Through the slight gangway. Do you see her 

there — • 
Huge, black, Incredible, fortress-walled in steel, 



44 YOU AND I 

Hiding her heart of fire? She has no fear; 
The fierce waves leap at her, the arrogant 

storms 
Tease at her flying heels, the boastful winds 
Front her in vain. Superb, invincible. 
From world to world, over the ravenous ocean 
Grandly she bears the fruitage of the time: 
Rich fields of corn, mill-yields of goods, long 

train-loads 
Of strong machines, man's hope and love and 

power 
Sealed in a million letters, and at last 
Even us, the little human mustard seeds — - 
Dark earth-specks with the kingdom of heaven 

within. 

Gaily we tread the deck, softly we sleep, 
Lightly we chatter away the idle days. 
While strong hands, from dark hold to sunny 

mast. 
Do our enormous tasks. And now at last 
The world again, low chalky cliffs, the shore. 
Parked England silvery green, her viny case- 
ments 



YOU AND I 45 

And dewy lawns, her Iron towns of toil 
Smoke-bound, unfree. And London, stony 

London, 
Gray storehouse of the heaped-up centuries. 
Of hidden sins and valors, locked-in joys; 
London the empire-hearted, grave with cares 
Under her tawny sky that dulls the sun. 

We linger not — swiftly the new age runs 
And he must haste who takes her by the hand. 
Over the Channel ! Come ! the little houses 
And patchwork fields of France. Paris full- 
blown. 
The red red rose of the world, whose golden 

heart 
Lies bare to the greedy sun, whose petals 

droop 
Ever so softly to the falling time, 
Most lovely at the signal hour of change. 
Germany then, the little patterned cities 
Of the old time swept, garnished for the new; 
The ancient halls hung with the ancient art, 
And musical with high-stringed orchestras 
Playing melodious prophecies; gay Berlin, 



46 YOU AND I 

Garish, unmellowed, pale, but full of hope. 
And proud desire. 

Ah whither do they march. 
These nations with the sweat upon their brows, 
Huge burden-bearers, panoplied in steel. 
Facing bleak mists of doubt? Will they cast 

down 
Their heavy fears and bathe their brows in 

light 
And freely run across the fields of dawn — 
Children of joy, blood brothers born in love, 
Valiant for peace as once for murderous war? 
Nearer they draw, trimly the sharp rails cut 
Their boundaries — twin scissor-blades of fate. 
Swift steamers tie their ports together, bring 
Tourist ambassadors from state to state. 
Bold man-birds fly through the unsentineled air. 
And cobweb wires invisible, more strong 
Than chains of steel, are spun from tower to 

tower. 
Bridging the oceans, linking capitals. 
Binding men's hearts. O kings of the peopled 

earth, 



YOU AND I 47 

O men, rulers of kings, dare you resist 
Warriors of science, who are blazing trails 
Your statesmenship must travel to new goals? 
Laggards, beware lest the advancing myriads, 
Bound for the promised land, trample you 
dow^n ! 

Dark Russia, standing at the Asian gate, 
Questions us with her eastward-peering eyes. 
Proud Moscow from her hundred towers looks 

out — 
Moscow, bejeweled with domes, magnificent, 
Out of her past barbaric gazes far 
Into the future, swings her Kremlin portal 
To show the sad Siberian wilderness. 
And bids us follow through the autumnal days. 
Softly w^e slip along the garnered fields. 
Past clustered villages, low-thatched and brown, 
Each with a gay church gilded; shimmer down 
The shining Urals, and salute at last 
Great Asia where in solitude she waits 
Under the northern star. 

Her forest then. 
Level and low; dark little pines, thin birches 



48 YOU AND I 

Their leaves all golden on the silver stems. 
And square-faced peasants crowding to the 

train, 
Slow, sleepy-eyed, thick-bearded. Onward still 
Through the stark plains; Baikal blue in its 

mountains, 
The home of wheeling birds that dive and soar. 
And by and by a dragon-guarded roof 
With gay beasts perched along its tips, that lift 
Like the slim corner of a pale new moon 
Poised in the sky at sunset. 

We have come 

To the first gate of the world. The still Pa- 
cific 

Glitters between the hills. Dark crowds 
astare 

Greet us with chatter and laughter — beardless 
men 

With shaven brows and long thin tasseled 
braids, 

Clad in dim blue under the darkening sun. 

The obliterating night curtains our eyes, 

And when at last the red dawn draws the veil 



YOU AND I 49 

A heavy wall looms over us gray and stern 
With towered gates fortress-guarded. And 

our engine, 
Steaming and shrieking past the caravans— 
The shaggy ponies, little loaded asses, 
The slow processional camels pacing down — 
Scatters the dust of time, pierces the wall, 
And pauses under the shadow of yellow roofs 
Where the Forbidden City, wide and still. 
Lies dreaming in her sunrise-slanting woods. 

Peking! She faces us with marble eyes 
Inscrutable. She hearkens to our noise 
And guards her secret. Shall we win her over — 
We with our guns, our dark machines, our man- 
sions 
High piled above her lowly curving roofs; 
We with our loud commands? Will she arise. 
Weary of silence, wave her yellow flag, 
Summon her myriads for the modern race. 
The huge new tasks, the war for love and light? 
Hush! If we wait and listen, will she speak, 
Wise woman or child, veiled queen of the dra- 
gon throne? 



50 YOU AND I 

Softly! no steamer, elbowing storms aside, 
No engine, nosing through the ancient wall, 
No hurrying foot, no soul worn or at war. 
Shall penetrate the Circle and the Square, 
Set with sweet woods, the green wall and the 

blue, 
And touch the three rings of the Temple of 

Heaven, 
The terraced marble seat, cloud-carved and 

fair. 
Where, at the Centre of the Earth, in peace. 
The tranquil East, contemplative, serene. 
Dwells with the sun and moon. 

Hush — bare your head 
And strip your spirit free. When you have 

won 
The ultimate Wisdom, seek the winged portal 
Once more. Then she, the sage, may rise to 

you, 
Hold converse with you, pilgrim of the age, 
And take you to her heart and bless your gifts. 
And be as one with you forevermore. 



II. YOU AND I 



MYSELF 

What am I? I am Earth the mother, 
With all her nebulous memories; 

And the young Day, and Night her brother, 
And every god that was and is. 

As Eve I walked in paradise, 

Dreaming of nations, braving death 

For knowledge; nor begrudged the price 
When the first baby first drew breath. 

I sang Deborah's triumph song; 

I struck the foe with Judith's sword; 
'Twas I who to the angel said, 

"Behold the handmaid of the Lord!" 

I was fair Helen, she for whom 

A nation was content to die; 
And Cleopatra, in whose doom 

The world went down with Antony. 

53 



54 YOU AND I 

I am the harlot in the street, 
And the veiled nun all undefiled; 

In me must queen and beggar meet, 
Wise age hark to the little child. 

I am the life that ever Is, 

And the tiew glory that shall be; 

The pain that dies, and the brave bliss 
That mounts to immortality. 



THE INNER SILENCE 

Noises that strive to tear 

Earth's mantle soft of air 
And break upon the stillness where It dwells: 
The noise of battle and the noise of prayer, 
The cooing noise of love that softly tells 
Joy's brevity, the brazen noise of laughter — 
All these affront me not, nor echo after 

Through the long memories. 
They may not enter the deep chamber where 

Forever silence is. 

Silence more soft than spring hides in the 
ground 
Beneath her budding flowers; 
Silence more rich than ever was the sound 
Of harps through long warm hours, 
'Tis like a hidden vastness, even as though 

55 



56 YOU AND I 

Great suns might there beat out their measures 
slow 
Nor break the hush mightier than they. 
There do I dwell eternally, 
There where no thought may follow me, 
Nor stillest dreams whose pinions plume the 
way. 



THE WONDER OF IT 

How wild, how witch-like weird that life should 

be! 
That the insensate rock dared dream of me, 
And take to bursting out and burgeoning — 

Oh, long ago — yo ho ! — 
And wearing green ! How stark and strange a 
thing 
That life should be ! 

Oh mystic mad, a rigadoon of glee, 

That dust should rise, and leap alive, and flee 

Afoot, awing, and shake the deeps with cries — 

~0h, far away — yo hay! 
What moony masque, w^hat arrogant disguise 
That life should be! 



57 



A GARDEN IN THE DESERT 

So light and soft the days fall — 

Like petals one by one 
Dpwn from yon tree whose flowers all 

Must vanish In the sun. 

Like almond-petals down, dear, 

Odorous, rosy-white. 
Falling to our green world here 

Off the thick boughs of night. 

One like another still lies — 

Tomorrow Is today. 
Always the buzzing bee flies. 

Who never flies away. 

Ever the same blue sky rounds 

Its chalice for the sun. 
The mountains at the world's bounds 

Their purple chorals run. 
58 



YOU AND I ' 59 

And ever you and I, friend, 
Free of this mortal scheme, 

Look out beyond desire's end 
And dream the spacious dream. 



THE MESSAGE OF THE WIND 

The wind comes riding down from heaven. 

Ho ! wind of heaven, what do you bring? 
Cool for the dawn, dew for the even. 

And every sweetest thing. 
O wind of heaven, from pink clouds driven, 

What do you bring to me? 
The low call of thy love who waits 

Under the willow tree. 
Whose boat upon the water waits 

For me, for thee. 



60 



!tff - — 



LOVE SONGS 



I LOVE my life, but not too well 
To give it to thee like a flower, 

So it may pleasure thee to dwell 
Deep in its perfume but an hour. 

I love my life, but not too well. 

I love my life, but not too well 
To sing it note by note away, 

So to thy soul the song may tell 
The beauty of the desolate day. 

I love my life, but not too well. 

I love my life, but not too well 
To cast it like a cloak on thine, 

Against the storms that sound and swell 
Between thy lonely heart and mine. 

I love my life, but not too well. 

6i 



62 YOU AND I 



II 

Your love Is like a blue, blue wave 
The little rainbows play in. 

Your love is like a mountain cave 
Cool shadows darkly stay In. 

It thrills me like great gales at war, 
It soothes like softest singing. 

It bears me where clear rivers are, 
With reeds and rushes swinging; 

Or out to pearly shores afar 
Where temple bells are ringing. 



YOU AND I 63 



III 



And Is It pain to you 

That we must love and part? 
Ah, If you only knew 

The gladness In my heart! 

Love Is enough. Each day 
I look upon the sun, 

He loves me ! I shall say, 
Now Is my life begun. 

He loves me ! Every night, 
On the dark verge of sleep, 

The rapture will alight 
And to my bosom creep. 

Peace, for I should not dare 
A keener joy Implore. 

My soul shall feel no care — » 
Until you love no more. 



IN TUOLUMNE MEADOWS 

I LOVE to sit in the sun 

And watch the foaming Lyell 
Leap over Its granite bed. 
I love these days that run 
On a burnished golden dial 
With the blue sky overhead. 

I love to waken at night 

And whisper the stars above me, 
And feel the fingering breeze. 
So still Is the world, so right. 

Where even the black pines love me. 
And the white moon guards my ease. 

I love the upward ways 

To the sun-tlppcd crest of the mountains 
High over the billowy world; 
Where the wind sings hymns of praise, 

64 



YOU AND I 65 

And the snows break into fountains, 
And life is a flag unfurled. 

I love — ah, beloved, what bliss 
Would shatter the ice like a river 
And sing all the way to the sea, 
If the world could be lost for this. 
And you from your sorrow forever 
Could rest on the heart of me I 



A FAREWELL 

Good-bye !— no, do not grieve that it is over, 

The perfect hour; 
That the winged joy, sweet honey-loving rover. 

Flits from the flower. 

Grieve not — it is the law. Love will be 
flying — ■ 

Yes, love and all. 
Glad was the living — blessed be the dying. 

Let the leaves fall. 



66 



A LETTER TO ONE FAR AWAY 

Dear Wanderer — 

The sky is gray, 
With flecks of blue 
The clouds rush over. 
A bird is singing 
Far away, 
And butterflies 
Taste of the clover. 
Under the trees 
My hammock swings, 
And a brave breeze— 
The restless rover — 
Flutters the leaves 
And stirs the grasses 
And, whispering riddles. 
Lightly passes. 
Day after day 
My friend and I 
67 



68 YOU AND I 

Climb up the hills 
And search the valleys; 
Dip In the brook 
That ripples by 
And through clear pools 
Serenely dallies. 
All green and gold, 
All song and sweetness, 
The old earth Is 
For summer's pleasure; 
Who kisses and goes, 
Whose love Is fleetness. 
Who gives but a season 
But gives without measure. 
Away with time!— 
His wand I capture. 
He rules no more 
For this brief minute. 
The years are gone — 
Once more the rapture. 
The night of stars 
With the secret In It. 
Ah, if you were here 
Should I grant, I wonder, 



YOU AND I 69 

The whole round truth 

For a birthday token — • 

How today, tomorrow, 

Together, asunder. 

We are — no, hush! — 

It is best unspoken. 

Oh, the truest truth — 

No words dare say it! 

It hides in the heart 

From the poor tongue's treason; 

And the deepest joy — 

We may never pray it. 

It comes and goes 

With nor rule nor reason. 

Look up ! — the sun 

Through the clouds' gray portal ! 

And see — white plumes 

In the blue below it! 

Behold the dream, 

Wide-winged, immortal! 

Did I hear your voice? 

You are here — I know it! 



III. OTHER PEOPLE 



THE WOMAN 

Go sleep, my sweetie — rest — rest! 
Oh soft little hand on mother's breast! 
Oh soft little lips — the din's mos' gone- 
Over and done, my dearie one! 



What do I think, my brother? Look at me ! 

You make me laugh, sitting there solemn- 
eyed, 

Full of opinions, theories ! — asking me — 

Look — with my baby at my breast — to tell 
you, 

Blessed big uncle ! — what I think — heaven help 
me ! — • 

Of this and that. How could you think, I 
wonder. 

If baby lips were tugging at your flesh. 

Draining your life to flower the world? 

73 



74 YOU AND I 

Dear brother, 
It's beautiful, that masculine pride of yours, 
That runs the universe — oh yes, I know, 
And longs to run it well. You travel, observe. 
Experiment, make laws and governments. 
Build strange machines and masterfully sum- 
mon 
The elemental powers to do your work — 
Why? — so my girl here, darling hope of the 

race. 
May pillow her round head in a softer bed, 
And dance more lightly by and by — God bless 

her — ' 
Into her lover's arms. 

Ah precious! — hungry still, my bird? 
Coo, coo — yes, darling, mother heard. 

Coo, coo — and is it true? — 

Ever so true? 

What do I think? 
If I were arrogant, extravagant — 
As men have never been ! — what would I think. 
Now in this hour of pride, with all the future 



YOU AND I 75 

Safe In my arms? Almost I might dare whis- 
per 
That It's a woman's world — do they not say it 
In the great book of science, the new song, 
Epic of truth? Let me but hear the word 
In reverence — almost a woman's world! 
We hold the race within us, we enfold 
Life In our arms, we do great nature's work; 
So nature hoards and wastes for us, they 

say. 
Contrives our essence from her richer store. 
And makes the haughty male out of the rest — 
You among others, with your politics, 
Your grand reforms, your dreams! Hush! do 

you dare 
Follow from seedling sea-drift up to man 
Life's long procession, noting everyw^here 
How the encompassing mother mothers us. 
And leaves your kind to shiver and drone and 

die? 
Or else, in pity, the less vital tasks 
She gives you — bids you serve us, fight for us, 
Even sing for us; and cunningly contrive 
To shelter and defend us, till the earth 



76 YOU AND I 

Is heavy with strange erections, and the air 
Is noisy with ideas. 

Oh yes, I know — 
You've got the upper hand, you run the world. 
Think so at least; at many an icy hearth 
You do your will with us; and we — poor chat- 
tels — ■ 
Meekly we take our fortune at your hands, 
With never a royal word to prove us women. 
Not slaves. Why do we yield, abase our- 
selves. 
If we are nature's favorites, till even 
The mighty mother who made us in her image 
Rejects us, winnows her worthless chaff away: 
Poor drudges, eating the heart of the race for 

bread; 
Poor puppets, wilfully idle, wilfully barren, 
Teasers of men — riff-raff and refuse all! 

Why should we suffer this in a woman's 
world? 
Good God, I wonder sometimes, hang my head 
For our surrender. Ah, we clasp too close 



YOU AND I 77 

The burden on our hearts, nor look abroad 
Through our long windy night of passion and 

pain. 
And still at dawn we rub our sleepy eyes, 
Here at the hearth with morning in our arms — 
Pink-dimpled baby morning, look at her ! — 
Waiting for you, our powerful delegates, 
To chase the night away. 

But is it strange? 
Think but a moment, ask yourself, my 

brother — 
You who tell me to think — what is our life. 
Our woman's life? Out of delicious youth. 
Murmurous, odorous, vague, full of dehghts 
Half won, half apprehended, suddenly, 
Like a still stream seized by the ruthless ocean, 
We are drawn to the deeps. Love, marriage, 

motherhood — ■ 
We are drowned in the physical, sensual; 

washed over 
With tide on tide of feeling warm and red — 
The heart's-blood of the world. Little pitiless 

hands 



78 YOU AND I 

Grip us within, throttle us, hold us down 
Through the long moons of feebleness and 

pain. 
Little souls adrift, gathering out of the void. 
Bring us their nebulous dreams, vague, inco- 
herent. 
Far lightning-flashes caught from flaming stars. 
No longer free, no more our own, or yours, 
No longer of this world, but of all worlds, 
We are borne by the vast tide, the tide of 

storms, 
Life irresistible, universal, deep, 
Out of that no-man's-land, that isle of pain, 
Where birth and death fight in the dark to- 
gether 
For the new soul, the new little infant world, 
Bearer of tidings, saviour of the race- — 
The child. 

Then, wonder of wonders, comes 
The change. All glowing, from his great white 

throne 
God stoops to us; we see the splendor, we hear 
The thronging harps, we feel here in our arms 



YOU AND I 79 

His presence forming softly, clasping close 
Into a little tender human thing — 
Our own, ours, ours. Then suddenly for a mo- 
ment 
We are swept away by joy magnificent. 
And from high heaven watch the brave world 
go by. 

Read the old story — It's our Bethlehem. 
We couch In a manger, bring forth young like 

beasts 
In blood and shame and agony, and then 
Rise with the living God safe In our arms. 

Well, after that what are your grand af- 
fairs, 

Your brave ideas, your dreams? We scarcely 
heed i 

Your world-building, we leave you to your 
work. 

Praising your strength, your imperious leader- 
ship. 

Your craft that skims the sea and wings the 
air 



8o . YOU AND I 

And sends love-words all round the girdled 
world 

Before these blue eyes, almost locked in sleep, 

Open to make the dawn. Oh wonderful 

Your power and cunning! Should we envy 
you 

The triumph, the high renown, when in our 
arms 

We hold all life — even you, the doer, the pres- 
ent. 

And this, the ultimate future of our dreams? 

Look — she^s asleep. Isn't she a drop of dew 
Mirroring moonlight? Or a velvet petal 
Dropped from the almond tree all pearly 

pink 
That grows in Sahuaro Valley? Or a spring, 
Cool, still, where all the birds of the air shall 

drink 
Before it flows through the wide fields of the 

world, 
The thick dark woods, to wander who knows 

where, 
Love-led, love-nourished? Oh, be wise for her. 



YOU AND I 8 1 

My brother! Smooth her flowery-scented 

ways — • 
We give you this to do. 

But if you falter, 
If, blinded by the dust and smothered in spoils, 
You strive for trophies and forget the goal, 
Must I not rise out of my sheltered seat 
At last? When I can empty my arms of her, 
Turn from the happy garden where I dwell 
And look over the world, what do I see 
Under the cloud-capped towers and pinnacles? 
Cities I see where little children drudge 
The strength of the race away; gaunt fac- 
tories 
Where girls and boys are withered at the 

loom. 
The wheel, the furnace; festering tenements 
Where babies — tiny tender things like mine — 
Are born in filth and darkness, to endure 
Starved little wretched lives, or die like rats 
While their pale mothers earn a pitiful dole 
By day and night in the one huddled room. 
In tainted slums, in poison-factories, 



82 YOU AND I 

In sulphurous mines, in roaring steam-driven 

mills 
Where human hearts are broken on the 

wheel ; 
In jails where law wreaks a self-righteous 

vengeance 
On the less masterful crimes; in gaudy brothels, 
Where daughters of the race — yes, mine and 

yours. 
Once dewy in their mothers' arms like this — 
Rot into slaves of lust; in all dark places, 
Unaware of love, unvisited of the sun, 
I count the agonies of our lorded world. 
I see that delicate lovely thing called life — 
My charge, my woman's business, God forgive 

me ! — 
Crushed into clay, mortared with blood and 

tears. 
For modern civilization, huge sky-scraper, 
To tower its many-windowed stories on. 
And through those glaring windows I be- 
hold 
A riot of waste, a sickening glut, an orgy — 
Life turned once more to loathing and despair. 



YOU AND I 83 

So, though I bear my baby In my arms, 
Now must I tread the crowded ways of the 

world. 
Help me to rise, give me your powerful hand, 
My brother; lead me forth to do my part. 
Too long content to rest here in my garden 
Love-sheltered. Mea culpa — I have sinned. 
Vast is the world, our steel-blown, power-driven 

world; 
Too huge a grand machine for half the race 
To build, and run, and guard from rust and 

filth, 
While we, the other half, cHng to the hearth. 
Selfishly guard our own, and give no aid 
Through the long heat and burden of the 

day. 
Now we are summoned, for the hour is struck. 
We have over-strained your strength, we have 

over-trusted 
Your zeal. Now must we take our burden 

back — • 
The burden of life you bear but fitfully — 
And nourish on warm breasts the suffering 

world. 



84 YOU AND I 

Come, curly pearly one, my bird, 
My primrose folding up at night! 
Sleep warm and tight! 
Never a word 
Till it is light! 

Softly, softly, down in your bed. 
Round little toes to round little head, 
Sleep, sleep, my weary one, 
Mother^s dearie one! 



THE SHADOW-CHILD 

Why do the wheels go whirring round, 

Mother, mother? 
Oh, mother, are they giants hound, 

And will they growl forever? 
Yes, fiery giants underground, 

Daughter, little daughter, 
Forever turn the wheels around, 

And rumble-grumble ever. 

Why do I pick the threads all day. 

Mother, mother. 
While sunshine children are at play? 

And must I work forever? 
Yes, shadow-child; the live-long day, 

Daughter, little daughter. 
Your hands must pick the threads away. 

And feel the sunshine never. 

85 



86 YOU AND I 

Why do the birds sing in the sun, 
M other f mother, 

If all day long I run and run, 
Run with the wheels forever? 

The birds may sing till day Is done, 
Daughter, little daughter, 
1 But with the wheels your feet must run- 
Run with the wheels forever. 

Why do I feel so tired each night, 

Mother, mother? 
The wheels are always buzzing bright; 

Do they grow sleepy never? 
Oh, baby thing, so soft and white, 

Daughter, little daughter. 
The big wheels grind us In their might, 

And they will grind forever. 

And is the white thread never spun. 

Mother, mother? 
And is the white cloth never done. 

For you and me done never? 
Oh yes, our thread will all be spun, 

Daughter, little daughter, 



YOU AND I 

When we He down out in the sun, 
And work no more forever. 



87 



And when will come that happy day, 

Mother, mother? 
Oh, shall we laugh and sing and play 

Out in the sun forever? 
Nay, shadow-child, we'll rest all day, 

Daughter, little daughter. 
Where green grass grows and roses gay, 

There in the sun forever. 



THE MODEL 

Have you forgotten — you, the chief, 

The art-director, president. 

What not, of the establishment — 

Forgot how for a moment brief 

The whole show, all our strife and stir, 

Went out — ^for her? 

You led me through your galleries 

And dreams — the pictures new and old 

And good and bad, the battles bold 

You fought with principalities 

And powers. We chaffed and laughed away 

Such woes that day! 

And built such castles domed and towered 
For Art to live in by and by, 
When men should know the How and Why ; 
For Art to live in, throned and dowered, 

88 



YOU AND I 89 

When the world's works and ways should be 
Both fair and free. 



From hope to rage and back again 

We flashed, flung curses red as bombs 

At the dull age, lit hecatombs 

Of lies and laws and flaws, and then 

Reached for the stars and plucked them down 

To make man's crown. 

The Truth ! — that was our cry — the Truth, 
Whose heart and mind, whose lips and eyes, 
Her first glance and her last surprise, 
Are Beauty. All the while, forsooth, 
Bold Chance, the blind interpreter, 
Led us — to her. 

A school door swung — and she was there I 
Strange, how the proud world slunk away 
And left her with the waning day 
Alone. All vanished unaware — 
The class, the great high-windowed hall. 
And we, and all. 



90 YOU AND I 

Yes, all our plans, the futile show 

Of art, wherewith rash man aspires 

To breathe into the dust life's fires, 

And be as God. She stood aglow 

Fresh from God's hand. 'Twas all in vain- 

Our hope, our pain. 

God beat us at the game. For her 

The dim day flared with rose and gold. 

A slim moon softly aureoled. 

She shone apart and would not stir, 

Hesitant at the rim of space, 

Veiling her face. 

Out in the dream she rose — afar — 
With Eve, new-flowered in paradise; 
With Helen, whose effulgent eyes 
Men sang to through the crash of war; 
With Aphrodite, foam-empearled, 
Kindling the world. 

The winds of doom grew soft for her, 
Nor dared even touch the curls that hid 
Her face in dusky gold; nor chid 



YOU AND I 91 

With change, that recreant pillager, 
Her still, immortal loveliness, 
So brave to bless. 

The place a temple was, and we, 
Tricked out with odds and ends of faith — 
Mere rags worn thin by life and death — 
Profaned the Immaculate mystery, 
Looked on the truth with blasphemous eyes, 
Afraid to rise. 

The moment met us and was gone, 
The proof of all and the despair. 
We sought the dark, growing aware 
Of our stript souls; and then anon 
Tried all in vain to tread again 
The ways of men. 

The bold words died upon our lips, 
The clatter of our feet grew still. 
Even now — ah, does it waft your will 
Through ether-seas in winged ships — 
The sight of her beyond shut eyes, 
The white surprise? 



HIS STENOGRAPHER 

As he dictates to her 

Does she love you? — well, I wonder — 
Married twenty years, they say I 

You, so bald and fat and funny, 

Grubbing like a mole for money? 

Guess she likes to spend the plunder- 
Gee! — she knows the way! 

She's a grand one — Lord ! what dresses ! 

Handsome too, proud as a queen — 
With her doings In the papers, 
Dinners, dances, all the capers. 
Likes to lead the show, my guess is! 

You're the gold machine ! 

If she knew you as I know you. 
Would she spend it — say? 
92 



YOU AND I 93 

If she knew each trick and quibble — 
Little fishes hooked that nibble, 
Business murders — would she show you 
Such a grand-stand play? 

You're a savage money-maker — 
Good to her, though, sure — and me. 

Kind old pirate ! What in thunder 

Does she think of you, I wonder? 

What neat stories do you take her, 
So she will not see? 



DESERTED 

O LOVE, my love, It's over then — 

Your heart flies free; 
And It's now no more us two again, 

The door on you and me. 
And It's now no more the supper spread, 

The stove singing low. 
Oh, worlds away your feet are led. 

Where wild winds blow ! 

Oh, seas between and worlds away 

Our paths run now. 
Go, for more dead than coffined clay 

Is love's dead vow. 
Go, may your bread be sweet, your rest 

As soft aijd deep be 
As when you slept upon my breast 

And gave the world for me. 
94 



YOU AND I 95 

Go, for my heart cries out with pain, 

With joy cries out. 
Go ! you've unwound the golden chain — 

Love's hope, love's doubt. 
Go ! you were mine — now mine shall be 

The whole brave world. 
My spirit flutters and is free, 

With wings unfurled. 

Out of my little house of bliss, 

O lost love sweet, 
Out of my grief and loneliness 

Now will I rise to greet 
My friend who begs in the street below. 

My friend who prays above; 
And each will be — oh, well I knowl — 

You — you, lost love. 



AFTER SUNSET 

The forest was a shrine for her, 

A temple richly dressed; 
And worshippers the tall trees were, 

Each to his prayer addressed. 
Scarce dared I lift my eyes, or stir. 

So deeply was I blessed. 

She took to herself the waning day 

Like a round twilight moon, 
Serenely rising far away — 

A silvery moon of June, 
That whiter than the morning is 

And fairer than the noon. 

The dim world darkened round her — all 
Was night save where she shone. 

Save where she stood so slim and small 
The shadowed earth upon ; 

As though the earth were new, and she 
Would light its fires anon. 
96 



A LITTLE OLD MAID 

She grew, like other girls and flowers, 

Sheltered and tended daintily; 
And told her dolls, through sunny hours, 

A prince would come her love to be. 

And none denied her as she grew 

The kingdom where her prince was lord. 

For him she bloomed, and drank the dew 
Of youth, and wore the virgin's sword. 

From her strong tower of maidenhood 
She saw brave men ride east and west; 

And dreamed of peace in love's deep wood. 
With babies nestling on her breast. 

And when no knight her banner bore, 
Nor hailed her with love's accolade, 

97 



98 YOU AND I 

Silent beside her open door 

She wondered first, then grew afraid: 

Afraid of quickened dust whereof 
Life made but phantoms for a show; 

Afraid of laughter and of love, 
Of God and his unchanging No. 

And things the world calls wise and good 
She did to bid her fear be still; 

Gave largess of her brains and blood. 
Chastened her bold, far-wandering will. 

But, withering ever at the heart, 
She felt her spirit die unborn. 

A ghost, she moved on earth apart. 
And feared to face the angels' scorn. 



THE FORTUNATE ONE 

Beside her ashen hearth she sate her down, 

Whence he she loved had fled, 
His children plucking at her sombre gown 

And calling for the dead. 

One came to her clad in the robes of May 

And said sweet words of cheer, 
Bidding her bear her burden in God's way 

And feel her loved one near. 

Yet she who spoke thus would have given, 
thrice blest. 

Long lives of happy years 
To clasp his children to a mother's breast 

And weep his widow's tears. 



99 



. NANCY HANKS 

Prairie child, 

Brief as dew, 
What winds of wonder 

Nourished you? 

Rolling plains 
Of billowy green, 

Far horizons, 
Blue, serene; 

Lofty skies 

The slow clouds climb, 
Where burning stars 

Beat out the time : 

These, and the dreams 

Of fathers bold, 
Baffled longings, 

Hopes untold, 

. lOO 



YOU AND I loi 

Gave to you 

A heart of fire, 
Love like deep waters, 

Brave desire. 

Ah, when youth's rapture 

Went out in pain. 
And all seemed over, 

Was all in vain? 

O soul obscure. 

Whose wings life bound, 
And soft death folded 

Under the ground; 

Wilding lady, 

Still and true, 
Who gave us Lincoln 

And never knew: 

To you at last 

Our praise, our tears, 
Love and a song 

Through the nation's years ! 



102 YOU AND I 

Mother of Lincoln, 
Our tears, our praise; 

A battle-flag 

And the victor's bays! 



MATERNITY 

After the months of torpor, 
Weakness and ache and strain, 

After this day's deep drowning 
In stormy seas of pain — 

To feel your hand, my baby, 
Upon my bosom lain ! 

My little one, my baby, 

What woes your touches quell ! 
It Is the Christ-child coming 

To save a soul from hell. 
Out In the happy gardens 

You bring me now to dwell. 

My baby — O beloved. 
Mine only you shall be, 

Even as the soul our Lord's is, 
Who died upon the tree. 
103 



I04 YOU AND I 

Have I not won you, dearest, 
By pain, as he won me? 

So sweet, so soft, so little. 
Such a wee helpless flower! 

How may I shield you, dear one. 
From the world's ruthless power, 

And hold you close and warm here, 
As now in your first hour? 



NEW-BORN 

She Is so wee, 
So wise and dear 
Her eyes can see, 
Her ears can hear, 
The flowers that grow 
Below the snow, 
The birds that peep 
In their eggs asleep. 
The songs we sing her 
No other has heard, 
The love we bring her 
With never a word. 



105 



MELODIES 

The patter of a baby's feet 

Upon the floor, 

His babble at the door- — 

Ah, these are sounds too sweet, too sweet! 

Blue sky, save me from tears ! 

Soft summer wind, stop up mine ears ! 

The patter of a baby's feet. 

His chatter — oh, too tender sweet! 



1 06 



THE CHILDLESS WOMAN 

O MOTHER of that heap of clay, so passive on 
your breast, 

Now do you stare at death, woman, who yes- 
terday were blest? 

Now do you long to fare afar, and guide him 
on the way 

Where he must wander all alone, his little feet 
astray? 
But I now, but I now — 

Sons of me seven and seven 
The high God seals upon the brow, 
And summons from his heaven. 

Blest as a bride were you, woman, that time of 

years agone. 
When love, giver of life, came close and led 

you to his throne. 
107 



io8 YOU AND I 

And blest were you — have you forgot? — when 

through the moons of pain 
The life love-given tugged at your heart and 
bound you with its chain. 
But I now, but I now — 

Seared by the high God's scorn — 
Lives that will never come to birth 
Body of me has borne. 

And when the hour was come, woman, your 

dark and perilous hour, 
When the twin spirits, Death and Life, clutched 

you with jealous power. 
Rent by their war you lay half lost, until a 

baby's cry 
Summoned you forth past world on world to 

sit with God on high. 
But I now, but I now — 

Never my baby's voice 
Has called me forth from vales of woe 

With seraphs to rejoice. 

You in your arms have clasped him, woman, 
and fed him at your breast. 



YOU AND I 109 

You sang him little songs at night, and lulled 

him to his rest. 
The ages gone were yours then, and yours the 

years to be. 
You gave him of your hope and saw the light 

no eye shall see. 
But I now, but I now — 

Sons of me born in dream 
Cry out for robes of flesh; I see 

Their wistful eyes agleam. 

O mother of that heap of clay so passive on 

your breast — 
Now do you stare at death, woman? — nay, 

peace, for you are blest. 
Blest are you in your joy, woman, blest are you 

in your pain — 
Once more he calls you past the worlds to sit 

with God again. 
But I now, but I now — 

Sons of me nine and nine, 
That looked on life and death with me, 

Are neither God's nor mine. 



A STORY 

He loved her and he was untrue — 
Untrue he was, let loved her still; 
For out of nether darkness drew 
The winds that lashed his wandering will. 

She lived in joy all unaware, 
In pain and joy his children bore, 
While hidden spectres of despair 
Drove him to love her more and more. 

And when she knew the truth at last, 
Suddenly she grew still and strange. 
Her rag of haggard youth was cast 
Upon the evil winds of change. 

She heard, and could not understand; 
She paled, and could not bloom again. 
So bland death took her by the hand, 
Looked in her eyes and made all plain. 

no 



YOU AND I III 

Yes, wise death taught her all, and so, 
Smiling once more, she kissed and passed. 
And he, caught in life's overthrow, 
Faced love and death alone at last. 

At last, made strong by love and death, 
He gave her truth for truth, and knew 
Now she had won his perfect faith. 
Dying, she doomed him to be true. 



A PORTRAIT 

The little world span round and round, 
Singing along her sunny ways, 

And all the glory she unwound 

She gave to him for joy and praise. 

And he, whom lavish morning met 

With new-blown flowers and minstrelsy, 

Looked on the gift through eyelids wet 
For sorrow of satiety. 

And he, whom noon put to the proof, 

With trumpet=call and weapon blessed, 
Fought the brave fight with soul aloof 
Harkening for some remote behest. 

Not homeward could the winged feet fare, 
The lyric laughter choked a sigh — 

A wanderer from he knew not where, 
Dreamer of dreams, he knew not why. 

112 



THE MOCKERY 

Sometimes I laugh — what else can a man do 
Who does not know? This little ego here 
Braving the void, this fleck upon the blue, 
This filmy wing sounding the starry sphere — 
What bold abysmal Incongruity, 
What joke of the gods to make a mock of me I 

I hear you sing, and wonder how you dare. 
Too fine for song they are — the tint of the rose, 
The touch of a child, love's beauty and despair, 
All the sad furtive exqulslteness that blows, 
Like scent of gardens I may never see. 
Across my sense to make a mock of me. 

That I, this atom infinitesimal. 
This chance-blown seed of flesh and fire, that I 
Should front the dread Immensity, the all, 
Shocking the silence with my futile cry — 
What dark Inscrutable absurdity. 
What joke of the gods to make a mock of me ! 

113 



THE THIEF ON THE CROSS 

Three crosses rose on Calvary against the iron 
sky, 

Each with its living burden, each with its hu- 
man cry. 

And all the ages watched there, and there were 
you and I. * 

One bore the God incarnate, reviled by man's 
disdain. 

Who through the woe he suffered for our eter- 
nal gain 

With joy of infinite loving assuaged his infinite 
pain. 

On one the thief repentant conquered his cruel 

doom, 
Who called at last on Christ and saw his glory 

through the gloom. 
For him after the torment souls of the blest 

made room. 

114 



YOU AND I 115 

And one the unrepentant bore, who his harsh 

fate defied. 
To him, the child of darkness, all mercy was 

denied; 
Nailed by his brothers on the cross, he cursed 

his God and died. 

Ah, Christ, who met In Paradise him who had 

eyes to see. 
Didst thou not greet the other In hell's black 

agony? 
And if he knew thy face, Lord, what did he say 

to thee? 



IV. PICTURES HERE AND THERE 



WHY NOT? 

Poet, sing me a song to-day ! 

But the world grows old and my hair is gray. 

Ah no ! there are birds on the lilac bushes 
And a snow-drop out of the wet earth pushes. 
Two chattering robins are planning a marriage, 
And see ! there's a baby all pink in its carriage! 
And the sun is wiping the clouds from his brow, 
And who can look back when it's always now? 
Oh, what is the use of a poet, say. 
If he will not sing me a song to-day? 



119 



AT TWILIGHT 

You are a painter — listen — 

I'll paint you a picture too ! 
Of the long white lights that glisten 

Through Michigan Avenue ; 
With the red lights down the middle 

Where the street shines mirror-wet, 
While the rain-strung sky is a fiddle 

For the wind to feel and fret. 
Look! far in the east great spaces 

Meet out on the level lake, 
Where the lit ships veil their faces 

And glide like ghosts at a wake; 
And up in the air, high over 

The rain-shot shimmer of light, 
The huge sky-scrapers hover 

And shake out their stars at the night. 
Oh, the city trails gold tassels 

From the skirts of her purple gown, 

120 



YOU AND I 121 

And lifts up her commerce castles 

Like a jewel-studded crown. 
See, proudly she moves on, singing 
Up the storm-dimmed track of time — 
Road dark and dire. 

Where each little light 
Is a soul afire 

Against the night! 
Oh, grandly she marches, flinging 
Her gifts at our feet, and singing! — 

Have I chalked out a sketch In my rhyme ? 



A PLAY FESTIVAL IN OGDEN PARK 

Oh gay and shining June time ! 

Oh meadow brave and bright, 
Abloom with little children, 

All tossing in the light! 
They dance and circle singing — 

Oh, what a joy to see! 
They twinkle in the sunshine, 

They shout in company. 

Beyond are pointed houses 

Patterned against the blue, 
With bushes flower-embroidered. 

And trees all trim and true. 
Around are rows of people 

Watching the dainty show. 
Guarding the fairy kingdom 

Where blossom babies blow. 

122 



YOU AND I 123 

Their merry little footsteps 

Race with the tricksy air, 
That puffs their filmy dresses 

And frees their shining hair. 
All pink and white and golden 

Under the round gold sun, 
Winging the wind with laughter, 

They ring and wreathe and run. 

Oh, sweet and soft the world Is, 

Ever so glad and gay. 
All garlanded with children 

Who sing and prank and pla^! 
You posy girls wide-petalled, 

And boys all round and red. 
Dance in the sun forever 

Till time goes off to bed I 



BATTLE-FLAGS OF ILLINOIS 

Through the red dusk of war they flew 

From Shiloh to the sea. 
Black fumes from shattered bolts that blew 

Withered the colors three, 
And crimson rains made sombre stains. 

For every flag a grave — ^yes, more — 

For each a score of graves. 
Crossed are the heroes' hands that bore, 

No wind the furled folds waves. 
Sweet be their rest, by soft peace blest. 

Is there no end? What mighty host 

Of spirits ranged for war 
The signal of the Holy Ghost 

Shall summon hence afar! 
Vast armies wait in solemn state. 

124 



YOU AND I 125 

Where valor fights for freedom — there, 

Till the last slave is free, 
These ragged flags will float in air. 

There will our heroes be. 
And shall we dare fight with them there? 



IN THE LOUVRE 

Queen Karomana, slim you stand, 
In bronze with little flecks of gold — 
Queen Karomana. 
O royal lady, lift your hand, 
Shatter the stone museum cold. 
Queen Karomana. 

The wide Nile sleeps, the desert stings 
With color. Shake your tresses free, 
Queen Karomana ! 
The sleepy lotus shines and swings — 

Loose your bound limbs and sail with me 
In a smooth shallop to the sea, 
Queen Karomana ! 

Queen Karomana, still so mute. 
So delicate, yet cold as snow. 
Queen Karomana? 
126 



YOU AND I 127 

An Ice-wind, boldly resolute, 

Rippled your thin robe long ago, 

And froze you Into bronze — I know — 

But left your garment's flecks of gold 

And the slim grace men loved of old, 

Queen Karomanal 



THE TOWER 

He built a tower for all to see, 
With sun-washed gardens planted wide. 
And there with pomp of pageantry, 
With men-at-arms and minstrelsy 
And moonbeam ladies fair and free, 
He revelled in his pride 
And there, with soft prayers muttered slow, 
And wind-blown candles burning low. 
And hooded mourners row on row, 
In pomp of peace he died. 

Now time forgets how many a sun 
Above the waste has risen and run 
Since all the feasts were over and done; 
Yet still from rusty pinnacle. 
From cobwebbed pane and broken bell, 
A wind-voice murmurs : Here am I — 
'Twas good to live and die; 

128 



YOU AND I 129 

And good to rear these carved stones well 
'Twixt laboring earth and dreaming sky. 
And now 'tis good to watch and wait 
While the slow centuries pass in state, 
And make old time my glory tell 
To you who wander by. 



V. OLD STORIES 



THE PRINCESS AND THE PAGE 

There is a legend — you have read it — 

Of a fair page whom evil spells 
Held in deep sleep; and men of credit 

Tried all in vain, the story tells, 
Week after week, by night and noon, 
To wake him from his sombre swoon. 

Till one, more knowing than the others, 
Took counsel of the stars, and said: 

"We may not rouse this youth, my brothers; 
But if the queen will bow her head 

And kiss him on the lips, his soul 

Straight shall escape the fiend's control." 

"Then he must perish!" in loud chorus 
The learned men lamenting cried; 

"Better to let him die before us 

Than see our queen abase her pride 

133 



134 YOU AND I 

And shame her fame from north to south, 
Kissing a page upon the mouth." 

And so in sorrow they departed 

And through the travelled highways passed. 
But the strange news their story started 

Filled all the land, and reached at last 
The crowded hall where sate alone 
The fair young monarch on her throne. 

And she, being royal, rose in beauty 

Like dawn over a leafy hill. 
"Would you then teach your queen her duty? — 

Now lead me forth to do God's will. 
Know, were this youth my meanest slave, 
He should not die whom I could save." 

So forth they led her through the palace, 
Beyond the park and past the gate, 

Silent as when a sacred chalice 
Uplifts the rich wine consecrate. 

In royal pomp of robe and crown 

Through field and wood they led her down. 



YOU AND I 135 

There in a mossy glade lay sleeping 

A youth so beautiful, 'tis said, 
That the still trees were softly keeping 

A solemn vigil round his bed; 
And the birds sang sweet lullabies, 
Fearing lest he should wake and rise. 

Then silken-vestured lords and ladies 

Circled him like a garland there, 
Thinking, "Thrice blest our royal maid is 

To kiss to life a thing so fair." 
And many a damsel envied her, 
Feeling the aching pulses stir. 

Simply, divinely, like one praying, 

The crowned queen passed their shadowed 
eyes, 
And knelt beside the youth, and saying, 

"Now in God's name I bid thee rise," 
She bowed and kissed the parted lips, 
Like a white cloud that moonward dips. 

And as she rose the pale lids lifted 

Over his dark eyes veiled and drowned. 



136 YOU AND I 

That slowly back to being drifted 

And in her gaze their refuge found. 
Then slowly, bold with rapture sweet, 
He turned and sank before her feet. 



"Give me thy love — I love thee only!"— 
The bold words fluttered like a song. 

"Thy love!" and from her station lonely 
The young queen heard and took no wrong, 

But lifted one white hand to still 

Murmurs that dared rebuke her will. 

"Blest is thy love, so freely given, 
As all things freely given are blest. 

Yea, not in vain thy soul hath striven 
Even though I grant not thy behest. 

Over the hills, across the sea, 

The prince comes who my lord shall be." 

"Over the hills, across the ocean- — " 
The bowed youth echoed, murmuring: 

Then rose, reeling with dark emotion. 
And striving to his dream to cling. 



YOU AND I 137 

"Nay, if thou love me not, ah why 
Didst thou not leave me here to die?" 

"Now, by my crown, thou art not noble 
But basely born," the queen made moan. 

"Do penance for thy words ignoble — 
Life is not given for love alone. 

Oh, purge thee in Christ's altar-flame, 

And go to battle in His name." 

So saying, from the forest hoary 

She passed, with all who marvelled there; 

Nor once gazed back — so runs the story — 
To see him on his knees in prayer. 

But all this came to pass, they say, 

Long, long ago, and far away. 



THE LEGEND OF PASS CHRISTIAN 

A LIVE-OAK grows by the shallow sea. 

Rest under Its boughs, I pray, 
And hear of the pirate — bold was he — 

And the lady he stole away. 

He was a black-browed buccaneer, 
And she like a snow-drop white. 

From a scuttled ship he bore her clear 
As it sunk in the haggard night. 

And with bell and book he wedded her. 

And shaped her to his will. 
Yet though her body could not stir 

Her soul escaped him still. 

Though we he wed and vows he said, 
Though beaten sore I he, 

138 



YOU AND I 139 

Vm naught of thine, thou'rt naught of 
mine, 
God loose these bonds from me/ 

On through long days and nights of woe 

The black ship held its way. 
It faced the Iceberg topped with snow, 

It scoured the tropic bay. 

Through nights and days of wrath and dread 

The ship sped darkly on. 
Behind it like a trail of red 

Its path glared to the sun. 

And fiercer rose the skipper's pride, 

And black his anger grew, 
That he who man and God defied 

One soul could not subdue. 

Ah, many a pain and many a stain 

We women hear for men; 
Yet blest is she whose soul is free 

Even in the dragon's den. 



HO YOU AND I 

And when he knew nor time nor fate 

Could bring him his desire, 
He held dark converse with his hate 

To find a vengeance dire. 

And many an oath to hell he cast 

While, in the devil's name, 
He bound his lady to the mast 

And set the ship aflame. 

Long hast thou hated me, he cried. 

Now laugh aloud in glee ! 
Though thou shouldst call me o'er the tide, 

I come not back to thee. 

The sea is deep, and I shall sleep 

Softly beneath the wave. 
Faith, thou canst kill; now do thy will, 

And bless me with a grave. 

Swiftly the royal sun dropped down 

Deep in his purple bed. 
And swiftly, at the skipper's frown, 

His oarsmen shoreward sped. 



YOU AND I 141 

The sudden night fell soft and dark 

On lonely sea and shore 
Before back at the fated bark 

Its captain gazed once more. 

I know not if the thing he hailed 

From hell or heaven came — 
A livid ship that sailless sailed, 

Lit up by song and flame. 

Far out to sea I flee, I flee — 

Oh, heaven is far away I 
My days are done under the sun — 

Why must I longer stay! 

Row fast; row fast; yet shall he hear 

Naught but that wailing now. 
Yet shall he see, through nights of fear. 

That figure at the prow. 

Long years, under this live-oak tree. 

Naught else he saw and heard. 
At last once more he put to sea, 

By a strange passion stirred. 



142 YOU AND I 

The loud storm roared and flashed that nlght- 

And never night nor day 
Saw the old pirate's shallop white 

Drift back across the bay. 

Now we, who wait one night a year 

Under these branches long, 
May see a flaming ship, and hear 

The echo of a song. 



VI. SONNETS AND QUATRAINS 



A POWER-PLANT 

The Fish Street turbine power station in 
Chicago 

The invisible wheels go softly round and 

round — ■ 
Light is the tread of brazen-footed Power. 
Spirits of air, caged in the iron tower, 
Sing as they labor with a purring sound. 
The abysmal fires, grated and chained and 

bound, 
Burn white and still, in swift obedience cower; 
While far and wide the myriad lamps, aflower. 
Glow like star-gardens and the night confound. 
This we have done for thee, almighty Lord; 
Yea, even as they who built at thy command 
The pillared temple, or in marble made 
Thine image, or who sang thy deathless word. 
We take the weapons of thy dread right hand, 
And wield them in thy service unafraid. 

145 



THE TELEPHONE 

Your voice, beloved, on the living wire, 
Borne to me by the spirit powerful 
Who binds the atoms and leaps out to pull 
Great suns together! Ah, what magic lyre. 
Strung for God's fingers, sounds to my desire 
The little words immortal, wonderful. 
That all the separating miles annul 
And touch my spirit with your kiss of fire! 
What house of dreams do we inhabit^ — -yea. 
What brave enchanted palace is our home. 
Green-curtained, lit with cresset stars aglow, 
If thus it windows gardens far away. 
Groves inaccessible whence voices come 
That soft in the ear call where we may not go ! 



146 



THE TEMPLE OF VISHNU 

Grand Cation of Arizona 

Vishnu, the gods of eld are dead. Long dead 
Are Zeus, Astarte, and that lotus-flower, 
Isis of Egypt. Unto each his hour. 
Yet thou, silent within thy temple dread, 
Locked against prayers, mounted above the 

tread 
Of climbing feet, thou from thy purple tower 
Contemplatest the stern inscrutable power 
Whence all things come and whither all are led. 
The day in splendor of lilac and clear blue 
Visits thy mighty seat. The sapphire night 
Broods in the abyss with darkness, and the rain 
Veils thee with clouds, hails thee and bids adieu 
In thunder. Steadfast on thy terraced height 
Thou seest bold time besiege thy throne in 

vain. 

147 



WINTER 

Earth bears her sorrow gladly, like a nun, 
Her young face glowing through the icy veil. 
The storms that threaten her, the winds that 

rail. 
Kindle a deeper color. She has won 
Graces that please the high-enthroned sun; 
Across her soft white robes that drift and trail 
He casts his lordly purples, lest she quail 
With the dead year, and think that all is done. 
She leadeth on through desolate sad days, 
A smile upon her lips, a triumph-song 
Shut in her heart. Be glad! so singeth she; 
Glad of the solitude, the silent ways, — 
Even of the pain; so shall thy soul grow strong 
For the brave spring that comes to set us free. 



148 



PAIN 

She heard the children playing in the sun, 
And through her window saw the white- 
stemmed trees 
Sway like a film of silver in the breeze 
Under the purple hills ; and one by one 
She noted chairs and cabinets, and spun 
The pattern of her bed's pale draperies: 
Yet all the while she knew that each of these 
Was a dull lie, in irony begun. 
For down in hell she lay, whose livid fires 
Love may not quench, whose pangs death may 

not quell. 
The round immensity of earth and sky 
Shrank to a point that speared her. Loves' 

desires, 
Darkened to torturing ministers of hell, 
Whose mockery of joy deepened the lie. 

149 



150 YOU AND I 

Little eternities the black hours were, 
That no beginning knew, that knew no end. 
Day waned, and night came like a faithless 

friend, 
Bringing no joy; till slowly over her 
A numbness grew, and life became a blur, 
A silence, an oblivion, a dark blend 
Of dim lost agonies, whose downward trend 
Led into time's eternal sepulchre. 
And yet, when, after aeons infinite 
Of dark eclipse she woke — lo, it was day! 
The pictures hung upon the walls, each one; 
Under the same rose-patterned coverlet 
She lay; spring was still young, and still the 

play 
Of happy children sounded In the sun. 



^RE PERENNIUS 

Look on the dead. Stately and pure he lies 
Under the white sheet's marble folds. For him 
The solemn bier, the scented chamber dim, 
The sacred hush, the bowed heads of the wise, 
The slow pomp, the majestical disguise 
Of haughty death, the conjurer — even for him. 
Poor trivial one, pale shadov/ on the rim. 
Whom life marked not, but death may not des- 
pise. 
Now is he level with the great; no king 
Enthroned and crowned more royal is, more 

sure 
Of the world's rev^erence. Yesterday this thing 
Was but a man, mortal and insecure; 
Now chance and change their homage to him 

bring 
And he Is one with all things that endure. 



151 



THE PEACEMAKER 

To the world-wanderer Samarkand Is near, 
The broad Pacific but a narrow strait. 
To him old China at the Asian gate 
A neighbor is, an elder brother dear. 
Toward savage coasts he dares his bark to 

steer, 
Bidding the tempest bear him on in state. 
He knocks at tombs where kings their sum- 
mons wait, 
And meets the gods of eld In deserts drear. 
So to the traveller who has long explored 
Tropics of sickness, rocky wastes of pain. 
Or arctic solitudes of icy sorrow — 
To him Is death no foe remote, abhorred. 
But a wise friend, a peacemaker who fain 
Would marry loud today with shy tomorrow. 



152 



QUATRAINS 
I 

Give to brave deeds emblazoned shrines 
Where reverent memories may throng. 

For them Art draws her perfect lines 
In stone, In color, and in song. 

II 

For the Sierra Club Lodge in Yosemite Valley 

Here, traveller, pause along your upward 

way — 
Enter and rest, and search your soul today. 
High are the mountains where your feet would 

fare — 
Let wisdom lead, that joy may find you there. 

153 



154 YOU AND I 



III 



The Monument by Saint-Gaudens in Rock 
Creek Cemetery, JVashington 

I WAS a woman who now sleep so still. 

I laughed and wept, I loved and had my will. 

Com'st thou to question? com'st thou here to 

pray? 
Life nor death matters now, nor good nor ill. 



VII. ELEGIES 



FOR A CHILD 

E. H, M. 

Nov. 17th, i8gg — Feb. 13th, igo^ 

Still he lies, 
Pale, wan, and strangely wise. 
Under the white coverlet 
He lies here sleeping yet. 
Though it is day, 

Though through the window flares the gaudy 
day. 

With red red roses strewn — 
Little red roses smelling sweet of June — 
He sleeps the winter dawn away. 
The pink and gilded valentines are there 
He fingered yesterday; 
The toy beasts guard him unaware — 
Jumbo the elephant, and Watch the dog, 

157 



158 YOU AND I 

And Strawberry the big brown furry bear — 

The three he kept with him, 

Who always slept with him, 

Sleep not but stare, like shore lights in a fog. 

All is the same — 

Table and chairs, the picture in its frame, 

The books with covers gay, 

And now, the day! — 

There through the window flares the gaudy day. 

Would it were night, since in my heart is 

night; 
Softly-caressing, blinding, deadening night. 
That won him from me 1 Would that we — we 

two. 
Wound close together soft in folds of white, 
Were buried deep in darkness ! From the night 
Love called him years ago — from the dim blue 
Of shadow-souls that throng about the earth 
Waiting for birth. 
And when the moons were run. 
Through blackest night, the windy night of 

pain. 
We rose — we twain— 



YOU AND I 159 

Into the path of the sun, 

And saw God pass to light the world anew. 

Now all Is done, 

The torch is burned away — 

Yet It is day! 

Now through the window flares the gaudy day. 

Did you speak, little one? 
At your locked lips I listen evermore. 
Say, do you play upon the starry floor, 
And pluck the anemone and asphodel 
In happy groves, a happy child forever? 
Will you not tell? 

Or In some spirit world, melodious, clear. 
Where life, at truce with death, shall perish 

never — 
There, in high union with harmonious powers. 
Will your fair soul to perfect stature rear 
And wisdom of a man? And will you be 
God's hero, riding out the sun-long hours 
To bear to captive stars their liberty? 
Or In the heaven of heavens, 
Ringed round with seraphim by threes and 
sevens, 



i6o YOU AND I 

Wrapt deep in holiness intolerable, 

Will you the glory of God in raptures tell 

Of praise, praise — ^joy and praise, 

Through the unending days? 

My little one, will you not speak to me — 

To me, who ever heard 

Your softest baby word? 

Will you tell nothing — nothing? Can you be 

Forgetful now and shut your eyes away — 

Now it is day. 

Now through the window flares the gaudy day? 

Me Ignorant and impotent and blind! 
I look before and after, and unwind 
Intricate webs of thought, 
By saints and sages wrought. 
Only to weave a vapor of the mind 
Here between you and me. 
All weariness, except that on my breast 
Your warm and rosy flesh could softly rest, 
And now my dazed eyes see, 
Tricked out in mockery, 
A heap of ashes marbled with your smile. 
Almost I hear the patter of little feet 



YOU AND I i6i 

Your dancing hours repeat. 

Almost I hear 

Your twitter of laughter at my ear, 

And suddenly feel soft arms around me, 

As though love crowned me. 

Dreams of the night, softly they flit away, 

For it is day — 

Now through the window flares the gaudy day. 

Alone — alone — 
Smiling you dare set forth, quick to the call. 
Out of my arms into that far unknown 
Swiftly you run, nor seem to fear at all. 
Don't you know we are one — yes, bone of 

bone. 
Flesh of my flesh, soul of my very soul? 
Whither thou goest I must go, or be 
A coward thing, ever at war with thee. 
Laggard and lost while thou art at the 

goal. 
Ah, leave me not now at the sunrise hour! 
Pause but to take my hand 
And give the high Indomitable command, 
And I will mount with thee the topmost tow^er. 



1 62 YOU AND I 

Show me the way, 

Now It is day — 

Now through the window flares the gaudy day. 

Ah, dost thou rise before me, 
Braver than I to meet the intrepid morn? 
Dost thou implore me 
To shut thy silent shadow-house forlorn. 
And turn me from its locked and leaden gate 
With heart elate? 

Oh, shall I don my jewelled robe, and so. 
With flourish of flutes and banners all aglow. 
Forth to the triumph go? 
The hills are hung with purple mist 
Beyond thy sepulchre. 
There death and life have newly kissed, 
For thou art early astir. 
There, wedded now who once were twain. 
From truth to truth they rise. 
And thou shalt lead me in their train 
And teach me to be wise. 
Not far, not far 
I follow where thy footsteps are, 
And take from thee 



YOU AND I 163 

The cup of ImmortaHty. 
Here in my little place — 
My little house of time and space — 
Why should I stay — 
Now it is day, 

Now through the window flares the day — the 
day? 

In crimson and gold arrayed, 
Royal and unafraid. 
It comes as for the bridal of a queen; 
And far before its feet 
The dawn on pinions fleet 
Spreads wide the path of life, with joy serene. 
Beautiful art thou, beautiful and brave — 
In vain they dig thy grave. 
Thy soul in glory moves, the foremost one 
To scale the sun. 
And now — and now 
I kiss thy tranquil brow, 
And go apace 

Out in the light to find thy dwelling place. 
Now we are bound no more — 
I follow thee beyond the rim of space, 



1 64 YOU AND I 

Beyond the farthest shore, 
And never stray, 
For it is day — 

Now through the darkness flares the day — th( 
day. 



LULLABY 

My little one, sleep softly 

Among the toys and flowers. 
Sleep softly, O my first-born son, 

Through all the long dark hours. 
And if you waken far away 

I shall be wandering too. 
If far away you run and play 

My heart must follow you. 

Sleep softly, O my baby. 

And smile down in your sleep. 
H^re are red rose-buds for your bed — 

Smile, and I will not weep. 
We made our pledge — you had no fear; 

What then to fear have I? 
Though long you sleep, I shall be near; 

So hush — we must not cry. 
165 



i66 ■ YOU AND I 

Sleep softly, dear one, softly — 

They cannot part us now; 
Forever rest here on my breast, 

My kiss upon your brow. 
What though they hide a little grave 

With dream-flowers false or true? 
What difference? We will just be brave 

Together — I and you. 



TITANIC REQUIEM 

Sleep softly in your ocean bed, 
You who could grandly die ! 

Our fathers, who at Shiloh bled, 
Accept your company. 

O sons of warriors, lightly rest, 

Daughters of pioneers ! 
Heroes freeborn, who chose the best, 

No tears for you, but cheers ! 

Lovers of life, who life could give. 
Sleep softly where you lie ! 

Ours be the vigil — help us live. 
Who teach us how to die. 



167 



THE DEAD AVIATORS 

William R. Badger 
St. Croix Johnstone 

Died in Chicago, August iSt^, igii 

Gay gallants ! Proud adventurers 

Who dared explore blue deeps of space ! 
Young banner-bearers of the race — 

Fresh laurels for their sepulchres ! 

Soldiers of peace! Up the steep path 
Man follows ever toward the light 
They led the march, they fought the fight, 

Smiling into the face of death. 

Bring laurels ! — oh, for them not less 
Than heroes of the blood-stained sword. 
Than prophets of the fiery word — 

Pathfinders through the wilderness ! 

i68 



YOU AND I 169 

Then onward — past the marble tomb 

Where brave youth lies with shattered wings, 
Past all man's high imaginings, 

His dizzy questionings of doom: 

By land and sea and heights of air 
We still must haste, we may not rest. 
Wherever a cause waits, or a quest, 

The wings of dream shall lead us there. 



NOGI 

Great soldier of the fighting clan, 
Across Port Arthur's frowning face of stone 
You drew the battle sword of old Japan, 
And struck the White Tsar from his Asian 
throne. 

Once more the samurai sword 
Struck to the carved hilt in your loyal hand. 
That not alone your heaven-descended lord 
Should meanly wander in the spirit land. 

Your own proud way, O eastern star, 
Grandly at last you followed. Out it leads 
To that high heaven where all the heroes are, 
Lovers of death for causes and for creeds. 



170 



SAINT-GAUDENS 

Bells of Cornish 
Toll, toll— 

For the friend who passes 
Through the gate. 
Up the mountain, 
Beyond the goal, 
Into the light 
He goes in state. 
Your vales were his, 
Your homes, your hearts; 
A score of years 
You gave the whole. 
Now flowers from your meadows 
For love, for tears! 
Bells of Cornish, 
Toll, toll 

Bells of the nation, 
Toll, toll— 

171 



172 YOU AND I 

For the man whose fingers 
Your dreams could mold, 
For his hero hands 
Who your hero soul 
Could carve in marble 
And cast in gold. 
- All he gave you — 
Give praise, a song. 
Wreaths for the victor, 
Joy and dole. 
Haste to crown him — 
He served you long. 
Bells of the nation, 
Toll, toll! 

Bells of the world, 
Toll, toll— 

For the maker of beauty. 
The seer of truth. 
He looked afar. 
He read the scroll. 
He wrought for your joy. 
He wept for your ruth. 
Now out from your highway 



YOU AND I 173 



Speed him on, 
With shining fame 
For an aureole. 
Ring him out grandly 
Whose goal is won. 
Bells of the world, 
Toll, toll. 



VIII. OTHER WORLDS 



BEYOND THE SUNS 

I SAILED sun-high 
While the world went by. 
The naked dead 
Swept on ahead, 
Turning and wheeling 
And backward reeling, 
Unfit to rise 
To the star-swept skies. 
And beyond the earth, 
In its livid shade, 
They who wait for birth. 
Of the air afraid. 
Nebulous, tremulous, 
Shapeless, dim. 
Cowering unemulous, 
Clung to its rim. 
And the land and ocean 
I could not see, 
177 



78 YOU AND I 

For the restless motion 
Of souls unfree, 
Whose travail and strife 
In the dust of life 
Pale vapors spun 
To defy the sun. 
Cold rolled the world 
In the clutch of time, 
Like a pregnant woman 
Whose hope sublime 
By pain inhuman 
Is tossed and hurled 
To the door of death, 
Where the Ice-blown breath. 
Chill and still, 
Woos her will, 
Sighs: rest — 
Be blest! 

Yet filled, thrilled 
' With a mighty light. 
Where sound fell stilled 
And there was no night, 
Pitiless I 



YOU AND I 179 

Her plight passed by 

And rose alone 

Toward the sun's white throne. 

Pale planets grew, 

Moon-burdened, vast — 

I scarcely knew 

So swift they passed — 

Worlds unkindled 

Or burnt and brown, 

They passed and dwindled 

And darkened down. 

High in the light 

Should I care 

For ghosts in flight 

Everywhere ? 

I grew aware 

Of suns that sing 

To one another 

Everything. 

Brother with brother, 

Song with song. 

Trailing their wondering 

Worlds along, 

They filled all the sundering 



i8o YOU AND I 

Spacious ways 
With praise, praise, 
With joy and praise. 
Nearing forever 
The peace above, 
They circled the throne 
Of the Perfect Love; 
Where Hfe, hke a river 
That finds the sea. 
Comes to its own 
And at last is free; 
Where souls who the night 
Of dim worlds have trod 
Reach for the light. 
And at last are God. 



ON THE EDGE OF SLEEP 

Out to the world's far end 

They go together — 
Oh, It is whither wend, 

Through the soft weather, 
The souls that two by two 
A light that flees pursue. 
Ah, to the wide world's end 

They go together. 

Over them white wings fly, 
The pale earth scorning; 
And music trembles by 
The hush adorning. 
Lo, they run hand in hand, 
Their swift feet burn the land — 
To follow dreams that fly. 
The pale earth scorning. 
i8i 



1 82 YOU AND I 

And will they win at last 
The wings of wonder, 

Whose waft is kingdoms vast, 
Over and under? 

Ever in purple state 

The secret minutes wait. 

And will they win at last 
The wings of wonder? 

Out to the world's far end 

They go together. 
Where all remote things blend 

Through the soft weather. 
All may be lost or won 
Under that slanting sun. 
Out to the world's far end 

They go together. 



THROUGH THE WAYS 

Age after age In highest heaven 

His feet the paths of crystal trod — 

A seraph of the circles seven 

Whose white wings veil the face of God. 

And there he found a wandering sin. 

"Give it to me," God whispered low. 
*'Why should I give it thee? Within 

My heart It sleeps and none shall know." 

"Give It to me," God spake. "Nay, nay. 
It Is my pearl of price," he said. 

"It is the beauty of the day — 

Give It, and I were better dead." 

"Give It to me!" — full strange and sweet 
Sounded afar God's voice, and then 

Was silent. And the seraph's feet 
Sped down the noisy ways of men. 

183 



1 84 YOU AND I 

"God has his heaven and man his world, 
And I — I have but this," he said; 

And stroked the live warm thing that curled 
Close to his heart its drowsy head. 

He gave it of his blood to drink, 

He wrapped it in his robe. And so 

On toward the black pit's fearsome brink 
Unfaltering he dared to go. 

"Comst thou from heaven?" one called aghast; 

"Oh, hast thou found thy heart's desire?" 
"Comst thou from hell?" another asked, 

"That thus thy two eyes burn like fire?" 

He answered not, nor here nor there 
He gazed, smiling a secret smile. 

"From hell or heaven, what do I care 

Since thou art here?" he thought the while. 

And the thing grew upon his breast, 
Awoke and opened murderous eyes; 

Till fear the seraph's heart oppressed-— 
He saw the very death arise. 



YOU AND I 185 

Suddenly, swiftly, as a storm 

Sweeps the high stars out row on row, 
A black force struck his quivering form 

And haled him through the vales of woe. 

A livid presence huge and cold 

O'ergrew him, freezing heart and brain. 
Shrunk by its stare, his soul grew old — - 

Warm In his arms this thing had lain ! 

Down the steep winds In darkness driven, 
Sped by the dim throng's ribald cries, 

He saw afar white hosts of heaven 

With crossed wings veiling troubled eyes. 

And, though in thick mire overblown 
Under the monster's mass he lay, 

He cried: "The Lord Is on his throne — 
I will arise and find the way." 

Then a great light searched the abyss. 

And God himself shone through the drear. 

"Thinkst thou I always bide in bliss?" — 
It was God's voice — "Lo, I am here." 



IX. OUT OF DOORS 



MOTHER EARTH 

Oh a grand old time has the earth 
In the long long life she lives ! 
From her huge mist-shrouded birth, 
When reeling from under 
She tore space asunder, 
And feeling her way 
Through the dim first day 
Rose wheeling to run 
In the path of the sun — 
From then till forever. 
Tiring not, pausing never. 
She labors and laughs and gives. 

Plains and mountains 
She slowly makes, 
With mighty hand 
Sifting the sand. 
Lifting the land 

189 



I90 YOU AND I 

Out of the soft wet clutch of the shouting sea. 

At lofty fountains 

Her thirst she slakes, 

And over the hills 

Through the dancing rills 

Wide rivers she fills, 

That shine and sing and leap in their joy to be 

free. 
Cool greenness she needs 
And rich odor of bloom; 
And longing, believing, 
Slowly conceiving, 
Her germ-woof weaving. 
She spawns little seeds 
By the wombful, the worldful, 
And laughs as the pattern grows fair at her 

loom. 

Proudly she trails 
Her flower-broidered dresses 
In the sight of the sun. 
Loudly she hails 

Through her far-streaming tresses 
His coursers that run. 



YOU AND I 191 

For her heart, ever living, grows eager for 

life, 
Its delight and desire; 
She feels the high praise of its passion and 

strife, 
Of Its rapture and fire. 
There are wings and songs In her trees, 
There are gleaming fish In her seas; 
The brute beasts brave her 
And gnaw her and crave her; 
And out of the heart of these 
She wrests a dream, a hope. 
An arrogant plan 
Of life that shall meet her. 
Shall know and complete her. 
That through ages shall climb and grope, 
And at last be man. 

Out of the bitter void she wins him — 
Out of the night; 

With terror and wild hope begins him, 
And fierce delight. 
She beats him Into caves, 
She starves and spurns him. 



192 YOU AND I 

Her hills and plains are graves — 

Into dust she turns him. 

She teaches him war and wrath 

And waste and lust and greed, 

Then over his blood-red path 

She scatters her fruitful seed. 

With bloom of a thousand flowers, 

With songs of the summer hours, 

With the love of the wind for the tree, 

With the dance of the sun on the sea, 

She lulls and quells him — 

Oh soft her caress ! — 

And tenderly tells him 

Of happiness. 

Through her ages of years. 

Through his toil and his tears. 

At her wayward pleasure 

She yields of her treasure 

A gleam — yea, a hope. 

Even a day of days. 

When the wide heavens ope 

And he loves and prays; 

Then she laughs in wonder 

To see him rise 



YOU AND I 193 

Her leash from under 
And brave the skies ! 

Oh a grand old time has the earth 
In the long long life she lives! 
A grand old time at her work sublime 
As she labors and laughs and gives ! 



NOW 

Yosemite Valley 

It is creation's morning— 

Freshly the rivers run; 
The cliffs, white brows adorning, 

Sing to the shining sun. 

The forest, plumed and crested, 
Scales the steep granite wall. 

The ranged peaks, glacier-breasted, 
March to the festival. 

The mountains dance together. 
Lifting their domed heads high. 

The cataract's foamy feather 
Flaunts in the streaming sky. 

Somewhere a babe is horning, 
Somewhere a maid is won. 

It is creation's morning — 
Now is the world begun. 
194 



THE HETCH-HETCHY* 

Have you found the happy valley? 
No? then follow — I have seen 
Where it lies. 
Shoon and staff — oh, leave your alley! 
Pass the foot-hills, pass the green 
Gates that rise. 

Soft it slumbers, locked in granite, 
Cliffs like silver-mailed knights 
Ranged around. 
And the mountain breezes fan it. 

Snow-plumed winds from hoary heights 
Glacier-crowned. 



* By authority of Congress, the Hetch-Hetchy Valley, 
in the Yosemite National Park, is condemned to be flooded 
to supply water and power to the city of San Francisco. 

195 



196 YOU AND I 

There slim waterfalls dash madly, 
Breaking, foaming, thundering 
As they pass 
Into blue-eyed brooks that gladly 
Trail their gauzy gowns and ring 
Bells of glass. 

There the Rancheria, laughing, 
Down her cleft of granite trips 
Like a girl; 
Leaps to meet her lover, quaffing 
Cataracts through foamy lips 
As they whirl. 

And Tuolumne the river 

From his plunges mountain-deep 
Rests awhile; 
Winds with many a curve and quiver 
Down in flowery glades asleep 
Mile on mile. 

Come — -'neath plumy cedars lying 
We shall hear his crystal tune 
Filmy soft; 



YOU AND I 197 

Watch his foamy fringes flying 
Till the mountain-climbing moon 
Rides aloft. 

Then the stars will guard our slumbers — 
Never head in royal bed 
Lay so still — 
While the stream sings lulling numbers, 
And the ghostly shadows tread 
Where they will. 

Oh the golden days that shimmer 
In that deep entranced vale 
Richly bright! 
Oh the twilights dim and dimmer, 
Till from granite shoulders pale 
Falls the night! 

Come, friend, pass the frowning portals! 
Take the Magic Valley — stay — 
It's your quest. 
Come, forget that we are mortals — - 
Where the gods have had their way 
Men are blest. 



THE RIVER KERN 

While I walk the pavement sooty 

In the town, 
Tread the stony path of duty 

Up and down, 
Oh, the Kern, all clad In beauty — 

Silver sheen 

On blue and green — 
Down his canon goes cascading, 

Cavalcading, 

Cannonading, 
Seizing all the brooks and fountains- 
How they beat 

Their crystal feet! — 
Shouting to the haughty mountains. 

Giant peaks that frown! 

Oh, my heart runs with the river 
Far away, 

198 



YOU AND I 199 

Though through wintry streets I shiver 

Day by day! 
Oh, I see the sunshine quiver — 

Shafts of hght 

That pause in flight! — 
While the Kern, with white feet prancing. 

Downward dancing, 

Gaily glancing. 
Shakes the massive earth from under — 

How he shocks 

The solemn rocks ! — 
Shoves the mighty cliffs asunder, 

Bids them guard his play! 

Now I hear the horns a-blowing 

From the height. 
And I see white garments flowing 

Sheer and bright! 
Down the hills the Kern is going — 

Hear him call 

His legions all! 
Ye Intrepid, oh come leaping! 

Leave your sleeping 

And your weeping! 



200 YOU AND I 

Swords from scabbards — hark, the clamor! 

Swift and free 

Oh would you be? — 
In the glory, in the glamour, 

Follow day and night! 



THE SAGE 

Sequoia, growing grandly 

Out of the long ago, 
Beloved of Time, whose aeons 

March by to measures slow, 
How tenderly you cherish 

All little lives below! 

Your mighty column pillars 
The blue dome of the sky. 

Your foliage plumes with greenness 
The clouds that pass on high. 

Yet here below slim lilies grow, 
And here at peace am I. 

How have you won Time over — 
That lord of dark renown? 

His hand, that withers all things. 
Has given your brow a crown. 

20I 



202 YOU AND I 

From your crest forty centuries 
Now upon me look down. 

Yes, all the lordly ages 

Your youth Immortal knows, 

Yet softly here you fashion 
A carpet for the rose, 

And smoothly spread a mossy bed 
Under my deep repose. 

You have defied the lightnings — 
They rent and scarred in vain. 

Fierce fires have stripped you naked- 
You made your peace with pain, 

And bloomed again in beauty 
To bafHe death's disdain. 

Where do you win your secret 

Of life untroubled, free. 
And wise with all the wisdom 

Of time's democracy? 
What do you hear this many a year?- 

Whisper the song to me I 



SIERRAN SONG 

To the California Sierra Club 

Come climb the mountain trails with me, 

Where pine-trees plume the sky, 
Where snowy peaks salute the sea 
When herald winds pass by. 
Wah ho ! the day is blue. 

The night with stars aglow; 
And all the dreams come true 
Up there — wah ho ! 

The stream runs dancing on its way, 
The meadows flush with flowers. 
The gay birds sing a roundelay 
Through all the crystal hours. 
Wah ho ! the sky is blue. 

The world is soft as snow; 
And all the dreams come true 
Up there — wah ho ! 
203 



204 YOU AND I 

Come hit the trail — the cliff-bound vale 

Our stately house shall be. 
Our feet shall tread beyond the pale 
Of dull mortality. 

Wah ho ! the world is new, 
And heaven is all aglow! 
And every dream comes true 
Up there — wah ho ! 



AT THE SUMMIT 

Where bold Sierras cut the sky 

Mount Whitney, of the high most high, 

Halts the pale clouds that wander by. 

We crept and climbed with eager feet, 
Until the world, fulfilled, complete, 
Plunged like despair before his seat. 

So high the peak was we had won 
Earth's air wore thin, Its woof undone. 
And blue space darkened round the sun. 

Yet, as we trembled there and quailed, 

Lo, higher yet an eagle scaled 

Smooth steeps of air, and sunward sailed. 



205 



THE GIANT CACTUS OF ARIZONA 

The cactus in the desert stands 

Like time's inviolate sentinel, 
Watching the sun-washed waste of sands 

Lest they their ancient secrets tell. 
And the lost lore of mournful lands 

It knows alone and guards too well. 

Wiser than Sphynx or pyramid, 
It points a stark hand at the sky, 

And all the stars aHght or hid 
It counts as they go rolling by; 

And mysteries the gods forbid 
Darken its heavy memory. 

I asked how old the world was — yea, 
And why yon ruddy mountain grew 

Out of hell's fire. By night nor day 
It answered not, though all it knew, 
206 



YOU AND I 207 

But lifted, as It stopped my way, 
Its wrinkled fingers toward the blue. 

Inscrutable and stern and still 
It waits the everlasting doom. 

Races and years may do their will — 
Lo, it will rise above their tomb, 

Till the drugged earth has drunk her fill 
Of light, and falls asleep in gloom. 



AT THE GRAND, CANON 

Wind of the desert, softly blow 
Across the canon shining wide. 
Lightly among the temples go 
That rise in towers of pride. 
Soft, lest they float away 
Out in the azure day! 



208 



LAKE LOUISE 

Bluer than Helen's eyes she lies 
Under the blue cloud-drifting skies; 
A daughter fair of light and air 
Dropped among warrior mountains there. 

White glaciers kiss her feet so fleet — 
Oh fugitive, too rare and sweet ! 
Will she not fling them off that cling, 
And rise, a bluebird on the wing? 

Will she not rise and stray away, 

A blue gleam on the brow of day? 

Look — still she stays, and bright, snow-white, 

The glaciers guard her day and night! 



209 



MARCH 

I SEE the snow-drops flutter 
Their white wings in the gale. 

I hear the robin utter 
On high his gallant tale. 

Look where the rash wind chases 
With clouds the climbing sun! 

The day makes merry faces — 
Gaily her gray steeds run. 

The bare brown trees are swinging, 
The curled waves roll and rail. 

Ho ! — madcap Spring comes singing 
On frosty Winter's trail! 



2IO 



AT THE SHIP'S RAIL 

The blue sea bends to the ship 

Like a dancer with skirts of lace — 

Wide diaphanous laces that curl and dip 
In the ardent wind's embrace. 

Little rainbows dash at the play 

And die of joy in the sun; 
While over and under, the long bright day^ 

The sparkling footsteps run. 

Lovely, melodious 

Is the sound of the dance on the scz^ 
Softly the white robes trail and toss 

Over blue waves that flee. 



211 



WINGS 

Pearl-gray is the sky, 

And high within it, sailing by, 

Three sea-gulls fly. 

Pearl-white are they 

Against the sky's obscurer gray — '■ 

Sea-foam astray. 

Gulls, sea-gulls white. 

Drift of the day, drift of the night, 

Mine be your flight! 

Out — -out, with you 

Beyond the noise, into the blue I 

Ah- — if I knew! 



212 



THE HUMMING-BIRD 

What a boom! boom I 

Sounds among the honeysuckles I 
Saying, "Room! room! 

Hold your breath and mind your knuckles!" 
And a fairy birdling bright 
Flits like a living dart of light, 
With his tiny whirlwind wings 
Flies and rests and sings. 
All his soul one flash, one quiver, 

Down each cup 
He thrusts his long beak with a shiver, 

Drinks the sweetness up; 
Takes the best of earth and goes — 

Daring sprite ! — 
Back to his heaven no mortal knows, 
A heaven as sweet as the heart of a rose 

Shut at night. 



213 



IN THE AIR 

Out upon the trackless highway 

Now I go, 
Beaten road and trail and byway 

Far below! 
I have shaken from my feet 
Mire of earth, dust of the street. 
Now the birds' way shall be my way, 
Winds of heaven shall be my seat I 
Out upon the untrodden highway 

Now I go. 

Patterned parks and bold skyscrapers 

Of the town. 
Close-packed houses plumed with vapors. 

Dwindle down 
In a world that slants and tips. 
And the little creeping ships 
Skim the sea. And people crawling 

214 



YOU AND I 215 

In their cage earth-bound, appalling, 
Crowd and cross and would be free — 
Look at me ! 

I shall over-ride the mountain 

Through the blue, 
And the cloud shall be my fountain 

Fringed with dew. 
Towers and tree-tops swing and sway, 
Broidered meadows glide away. 
Now I tread the air's own highway, 
Now the eagle's way is my way. 
I am off to meet the mountain — 

Where are you? 



THE NIGHT-BLOOMING CEREUS 

Flower of the moon! 
Still white Is her brow whom we worshipped on 

earth long ago, 
Yes, purer than pearls In deep seas and more 

virgin than snow. 
The dull years veil their eyes from her shining 

and vanish afraid. 
Nor profane her with age — the Immortal, nor 

dim her with shade. 

It IS we are unworthy, we worldlings, to dwell 

In her ways. 
We have broken her altars and silenced her 

voices of praise. 
She has barkened to singing more silvern, seen 

raptures more bright; 
To a planet more pure she has fled on the 

wings of the night — 

Flower of the moon. 
216 



YOU AND I 217 

Yet she loves the proud world that forsook her, 

for lo, once a year 
She, Diana, translucent, pale, sclntillant, down 

from her sphere 
Floats to earth soft as star-laden music to 

bloom in a flower; 
And our hearts feel the spell of the goddess 

once more, for an hour. 

See ! enthroned in her splendor she knows not 

desire nor decay; 
And the night Is a glory around her more bright 

than the day. 
And her breath has the sweetness of worlds 

where no sorrow is known. 
And we long as we worship to follow her back 

to her own — 

Flower of the moon! 



X. DANCE OF THE SEASONS 

I — Spring. Allegro 
II — Summer. Andante 
III — Autumn. Scherzo 
IV — Winter. Finale 

The dance symphony to which this poem be- 
longs was first given in Fullerton Hall, 
Art Institute of Chicago, January 15th, 
1907, the author reading the four parts 
of the poem as preludes to the four move- 
ments of a costume dance by Mrs. Moore. 

To Kathleen McDonald Hamill 



219 



DANCE OF THE SEASONS 

I — Spring 
Allegro 

Wake ! wake ! 
Out of the snow and the mist, 
In rain-wet wind-blown gauze 
Of amber and amethyst, 
Cometh Spring like a girl. 
Trembling and timorous 
She peers through the thin white thaws, 
Afraid of the winds that whirl 
Down paths all perilous 
Where her so tender feet are softly going, 
Where the rich earth Is awaiting her lavish 

sowing 
Of green and purple and white 
In the gardens of day and night. 

Hither she comes — 
Oh lightly she wavers and lingers ! 

221 



222 YOU AND I 

The chill gray storm benumbs 

Her lifted rose-petal fingers, 

And looses her hair from its fillet of pearl. 

Her soft, dew-fringed eyes — 

The virginal eyes of a girl — 

Gaze at the foam-veiled skies. 

Search for the sun who is hiding 

His amorous glowing face, 

For the spirit of life now gliding 

Unseen through every place. 

Blown ! blown — 
Hither and yon, 

Dashed by the winds that groan, 
Lashed by the frost-elves wan. 
Whipped by the envious ghosts of old years 

long gone. 
That chatter and sigh 
Of the ruin nigh. 
Of death and darkness and sorrow that come 

anon. 
Yet bold and brave 
She dares — the young Spring — to dance on 

that ancient grave. 



YOU AND I 223 

To dance with delicate feet 
On the world's despair and defeat, 
On the Winter's ashen pall 
That covers all. 

Look! she lifts the cover — 
A corner of that frost-film pall she lifts. 
Now Earth, great-hearted lover. 
Smiles upward through the dew-bespangled 

rifts. 
And shining sunbeams, pages of the day. 
Roll up the mantle, bear It far away. 
Then the Earth laughs with pleasure. 
And tosses from her treasure 
Store of blue crocuses and snow-drops white, 
Glad trilllums that make the woodland 

bright, 
Rich arbutus and shadowy violets: 
Till, caught In webs of bloom. 
Light-footed Spring her stormy woe forgets. 
Forgets the cold, the gloom, 
Blesses with errant grace 
Each dim forgotten place, 
Casts on the oak a rosy velvet dress 



224 YOU AND I 

Of drooping leaves, muffles the maples bare 

In lilac veils, covers with tenderness 

The harsh brown world; and then, when all 

Is won. 
Trails languorous dreams, dreams exquisite 

and rare. 
And shrinking from the bold, too-fervid sun, 
Shyly gives over 
Her royal lover, 

Like one afraid of love, who will not stay 
Love's perfect day; 
Lightly gives over — 
Inconstant rover — 
Her glad fresh-garlanded world, and like the 

dew 
Sleeps in the blue. 
She tosses down 
Her flowery crown 
Into the lap of Summer — 
Glad newcomer! — 
Smiling adorns her with treasure of growing 

things, 
And softly sings. 
Even while she fades in light — 



YOU AND I 225 

A wraith, a mist 

Of amethyst; 

A spirit, a dream that goes, 

But whither — who knows? 

II — Summer 

Andante 

Hush ! hush ! 
Wake not the drowsy Summer — she would 

dream. 
Heavy with growing things. 
Dance lightly where her beauty lies agleam 
Under languidly folded wings. 
Over the delicate grasses 
A breath, a spirit passes, 
A song, and the odor of bloom — 
Give way! make room! 
The Summer has met her lover 
By day, by night; 
He has brought from the stars — bright 

rover — 
Heaven's fire, heaven's light! 
He has filled her with life that sleepeth. 



226 YOU AND I 

That waits for birth, 

As a jewel Its bright fire keepeth 

In the rock-bound earth. 

Softly, slowly 
Dance and sway. 
While Summer dreameth 
The moons away. 
Full weary she seemeth 
Of love's deep bliss, 
But holy, holy 
Love's memories. 

The Idle day Is rich with budding things 
Whereon the bold sun glares. 
Dance lightly, lest you tread on folded wings, 
Of flight still unawares. 
Ah, delicate your footfall be, while ever 
The seed grows In the corn. 
The bird In the egg, the deed In the endeavor. 
The day In the morn. 

Deep In the pool the spawning fishes play; 
High In the air the bees buzz out their way. 
Everywhere 



YOU AND I 227 

The children of Summer come crowding In 

lustrous array — 
The myriad children of Summer, beloved of 

the sun, 
Through the long hot noons they are glad of 

the world they have won. 
Bright and fair 
They throng in the meadows and shake out 

the dew from their hair; 
They sing In the tree-tops, they dip In the 

slow-flowing stream; 
They nod from the hills, In the valleys their 

swift feet gleam; 
They kneel In the moonlight, the bright stars 

hear their prayer. 
Everywhere 

The high sun blesses them, 
The moon confesses them. 
Old Time with patient smile 
Harks to their hope awhile. 
They are born, they awake, they arise — now 

they dance in their bloom; 
For their revels of love and of wonder the 

earth makes room. 



228 YOU AND I 

Oh, she harks to their song for a season, she 

kisses their feet; 
She gives them her all for their hour — ^be its 

joy complete! 

The fecund Summer then 
Covers her eyes again — 
Lies dreaming, at rest: 
Young mother of life who is feeding 
The world at her breast; 
Rich bride of the year, ever needing 
But love and light 

To give, and give more, and give all 
In her great love's might. 
Tread softly, give heed to her call — 
Oh be still! be fleet! 

Hush — hush the sweet sound of your sing- 
ing; 
Pause — pause, ye feet! 
Sink down ! she bids you rest 
Close on her breast. 
Down ! down ! your rapture flinging 
Where all her dreams are winging. 
Ah, cease your quest! 



YOU AND I 229 

Peace 1 — be blest! 
Be blest! 

Ill — Autumn 

Scherzo 

Come with me — 
All that Hve ! 
Dance with me — 
Love — and give I 
Give me your love, ye souls of the corn and 

the vine ! 
Dance with me! laugh with me! crowd me I 

be mine — be mine ! 
Up from the earth in your splendor of scarlet 

and gold — 
Haste, oh make haste ere the warm rich year 

grow old ! 
Ye throngs that gaily rise 
Multitudinous 

As the red red leaves that flutter 
All tremulous 

When the wind rides down from the skies; 
Ye spirits that shout and mutter 



230 YOU AND I 

In laughter, In pain, 

When the year of her sowing and reaping 

Would waste again, 

Come spend of your treasure, full heaping, 

Be lavish, be bold! 

Cast your hope on the winds, from your feet 

shake the dark damp mould; 
Come dancing, come shouting, come leaping. 
Ere the earth grow cold! 

Come, wings of the air; come, feet that 

trample the grasses ! 
Come, tree-top spirits that kindle the leaves 

to flame ! 
Come, sprites of the sea that shout when the 

gray storm passes! 
Come, wraiths of the desert whom sorrow 

nor death may tame ! 
Come eat of the rich ripe fruit, come drink 

of the vine! 
Come dance till your revels are drunken with 

joy, with wine. 
For the labor is over and done, 
The spoil of the battle is won! 



YOU AND I 231 

Ah trample it, scatter it, 

Cast it afar! 

The tempests will batter it — 

On with the war ! 

Let your bright robes float, let them whirl 
with the rush of your feet — 

The gauzes of crimson and gold! 

Give your will to the winds — they are chas- 
ing, they haste, they are fleet, 

They are eager and ruthless and bold. 

On ! on ! till you circle the earth with the rush 
of your dancing. 

With the shout and the song; 

Till your choral of crowds, like a river in 
flood-time advancing, 

Bears all things along! 

Dance ! dance ! for the end comes soon — 

Do you feel the chill? 

White winds of the Winter croon 

From their cave in the hill. 

Yes, death and the end come soon — 

Spread your gaudy robes ! 

Haste! haste! for the leaves are falling. 

Shout! shout! for the storms are calling. 



232 YOU AND I 

Give all, for the year grows old. 
And the world grows cold. 

IV — Winter 
Finale 

Fly! fly! 

Gather your white robes close — 

Scuttle avv^ay! 

Look! in the sky 

The bleak winds mutter morose 

To the swift dark day. 

They gather and threaten and scold. 

They shiver and shriek in their rage. 
, They are ashen and icy and old — 

Ah, bitter the passion of age ! 

Flee from them ! haste — haste 

Through the vengeful weather! 

Lest your red blood chill 

And your hearts^ stop still, 

Crowd close together 

And flee o'er the drear dead waste! 

Down ! down ! 
Out of a sky all brown 



YOU AND I 233 

The dark storm stoops to shrivel the world 

away. 
With ribald wind he strips her, 
With stinging sleet he whips her, 
With envious frost he withers her green to 

gray. 
Because she was gay and glad, 
Beloved of many lovers, fruitful mother 
Of many children crowding and killing each 

other ; 
Because she was wasteful mad. 
Scattering and trampling her riches for death 

to smother, 
Now shall she starve and freeze 
And pray on her stiffened knees. 
Now shall she helpless He 
And the powders of the air will mock her; 
The spirits she dared defy 
Will rend her and blind her and shock her. 
With white white snow they will bury her 

passion deep 
Till It's dumb, till It's cold. 
They will whistle and roar in their triumph 

and orgies keep 



234 YOU AND I 

Till her heart grows old. 

They will put out her love-lit sun like the 

torch at a feast, 
And with haughty carousals make wanton his 

court in the east. 
They will brush down the stars like white 

feathers far blown on dark waves, 
And the night will be black as they dance on 

the ghost-thronged graves. 

Haste ! haste ! 
Your garments are torn, they are sheeted 

with ice. 
In your wind-loosed hair 
The sharp sleet rattles. 
You are hurled, chased 
To the Winter's lair — - 
You have paid the price, 
You have bled in her battles. 
Now shelter your woe 
And be still, be still ! 
Let the night-winds go 
To their cave in the hill ! 
Let the dark clouds flee 



YOU AND I 235 

Through the gates of the west, 

Till the earth rides free 

Who was sore oppressed. 

For weary of orgies that ravage 

Is Winter now. 

From the heel of a tyrant savage 

She lifts her brow. 

See — the wrath of the storm is over, 

And under a moon-white cover 

Lies the world asleep. 

So still, so pale — 

Dance bravely, lest you quail 

And pause to weep. 

Over the flower-soft snow 

Still as the lost wind go 

To open the gates of day. 

Where watches yon lone pale star 

Crimson and golden are 

The curtains that shake and sway. 

Ah, lift them ! look, through the rift 

Comes the sun adrift! 

He kindles the snow to fire. 

He bids the dead earth aspire. 

Oh dance ! from the year's white grave 



236 YOU AND I 

New blooms will blow. 

Dance lightly, wistfully! save 

The life below! 

Softly! the world is still — 

Hush your errant will ! 

No longer the dream pursue! 

Rest — rest, till the dream come true 

Wait! hope! be still! 



THE END 



r 



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RABINDRANATH TAGORE'S NEW DRAMA 

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A LIST OF PLAYS 

Leonid Andreyev's Anathema Si. 25 net 

Clyde Fitch's The Climbers 75 net 

Girl with the Green Eyes 1.25 net 

Her Own Way 75 net 

Stubbornness of Geraldine 75 net 

The Truth 75 net 

Thomas Hardy's The Dynasts. 3 Parts. Each 1.50 net 

Henry Arthur Jones's 

Whitewashing of JuUa 75 net 

Saints and Sinners 75 net 

The Crusaders 75 net 

Michael and His Lost Angel , 75 net 

Jack London's Scorn of Women 1.25 net 

Theft 1.25 net 

Mackaye's Jean D 'Arc 1.25 net 

Sappho and Phaon 1.25 net 

Fenris the Wolf 1.25 net 

Mater 1.25 net 

Canterbury Pilgrims 1.25 net 

The Scarecrow 1.25 net 

A Garland to Sj'lvia 1.25 net 

John Masefield's The Tragedy of Pompey 1.25 net 

William Vaughn Moody's 

The Faith Healer 1.25 net 

Stephen Phillip's Ulysses 1.25 net 

The Sin of David 1.25 net 

Nero 1.25 net 

Pietro of Siena i. 00 net 

Phillips and Carr. Faust 1.25 net 

Edward Sheldon's The Nigger 1.25 net 

Romance 1.25 net 

Katrina Trask's In the Vanguard 1.25 net 

Rabindranath Tagore's The Post Office i. 00 net 

Chitra i.oo net 

The King of the Dark Chamber 1.25 net 

Robinson, Edwin A. Van Zorn 1.25 net 

Sarah King Wiley's Coming of Philibert 1.25 net 

Alcestis 75 net 

Yeats's Poems and Plays, Vol. II, Revised Edition 2.00 net 

Hour Glass (and others) 1.25 net 

The Green Helmet and Other Poems 1.25 net 

Yeats and Lady Gregory's Unicorn from the Stars 1.50 net 

Israel Zangwill's The Melting Pot. New Edition . . . . 1.25 net 

The War God 1.25 net 

The Next Religion 1.25 net 

Plaster Saints 1.25 net 



PUBLISHED BY 

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: l^dagnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Sept. 2009 



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